Lost Truths
by Erys
Summary: Another "Snape is Harry's father" fic, but my way. Everything is not what it seems after Voldemort is resurrected in the graveyard. Set after GOF. Chapter eleven is up!
1. Chapter 1

Story: Chapter One: In which Dumbledore ponders and Harry acts

A/N: Hey guys, this is Erys and my first story written for . Any feedback you have for me is much appreciated, even if it is negative. I want to write a story that is captivating, even if the plot has been used many times before.

Summary: this story takes place just after fourth year and (hopefully if I get that far) there will be sequels for years six and seven. It is another 'Snape is Harry's father' fic. I haven't decided yet if it will follow the events of _Order of the Phoenix _(a.k.a. Sirius' death, Umbridge as DADA teacher, Grawp, etc.) but I will probably pick and choose as I go along.

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to the brilliant J.K. Rowling, but the plot is all mine!

Nothing else to reveal right now. _On with the story!_

**Story: Chapter One: In which Dumbledore ponders and Harry acts**

Albus Dumbledore was pondering… again. How extraordinary. The individual consuming his thoughts, even more unpredictable: Harry Potter. Ever since that fateful night of Voldemort's return, the headmaster's thoughts were rarely elsewhere. He knew that he must tell Harry the prophecy soon. But how could he knowingly lay such a heavy burden on a child? Well, Harry could hardly be called a child anymore. Not after witnessing Cedric's death and Voldemort's resurrection.

Unfortunately, the prophecy was not the only things held secret from Harry. Albus Dumbledore held a far more dangerous secret, one that no one else living knew. Knowledge that could endanger two people far more than they already were if the wrong people were to discover it.

Which leads back to Albus' current predicament. For once, he was at a complete loss for what to do. Well… almost. He knew what needed to be done. It would be his greatest trick ever: to fool the entire wizarding world without lying. Hiding something under their very noses without them realizing it. Now it was a simple matter of convincing two very stubborn people to follow along with his scheme.

A knock on the door shook him from his reverie. Too late to go back now. He would have to make up his convincing argument as he went along… quite unusual.

"Come in Severus."

Hundreds of miles away, the young man in question threw himself out of bed, gasping for breath. Face down on the floor, he lay there trying to return his breathing to normal after his vivid dream. He closed his eyes only to snap them open again. Even when he was awake, those lifeless eyes haunted him, boring into his vision. He glanced up at his clock. 8:30. How on earth had he slept in so late? Normally his nightmares woke him up four hours earlier… But then again, it had not been a normal dream. Why couldn't he remember it though?

This was the first 'vision' he had had since the one in Divination where he had seen Voldemort talking to Wormtail about Crouch. The last two weeks since his return to Private Drive had been filled with chores and attempts to do some homework. Every night however, he revisited the graveyard. No matter how exhausted he was from the day's work, he was never too tired for another nightmare.

Harry shook his head, jet-black hair flip-flopping everywhere. What had his dream contained? Voldemort was there, talking to someone… Lucius Malfoy. They were talking about someone, the strange person. But there were three of them. The boy closed his bright green eyes. No, it wasn't the stranger person; that was their name: Lestrange. A husband, wife, and brother… where had he heard that name before?

Harry strained his memory, trying to remember. It had something to do with his friend Neville Longbottom, but what? Then it clicked. Dumbledore's pensieve! Those three and Barty Crouch jr. were sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban prison. He could picture Bellatrix Lestrange perfectly: the dark hair and heavily lidded eyes of a woman screaming that the dark lord would return; her being carried away from her trial by the dementors.

That's what Voldemort was talking about. He was going to break his 'faithful' followers out of Azkaban! He had to tell Dumbledore quickly. Voldemort was planning the massive breakout for next week. He wanted to hit the wizarding world while they were still in denial about his return. But he was only going to tell Malfoy about it until just before the attack so no one would have any knowledge of it before-hand. He was still unsure of how trustworthy some of his followers were.

Harry smirked. Well, Voldemort had one spy he was unaware of, even if that spy was accidental. If Dumbledore could put together a defense with this information, Voldemort would be furious! But it would take at least two days for an owl to reach Dumbledore, and Hedwig was off delivering a letter to Ron and wouldn't be back until tomorrow at the earliest. What could he do?

"Oh Fawkes," Harry said out loud. "I wish you were here. Then Dumbledore would be sure to get my message soon." A flash of fire sent Harry sprawling back onto the floor. _What on earth?_ Harry thought. Suddenly he saw something that made his heart flutter with hope. "Fawkes!" he gasped scrambling to his feet. How had Dumbledore's phoenix shown up just when he was needed? "Would you please take a message to Dumbledore? It's important! I just need to write quickly. Hang on."

Harry grabbed a quill and some parchment, scribbling as fast as he could without his handwriting becoming too illegible.

_Headmaster,_

_Voldemort is going to attempt to break his Death Eaters out of Azkaban next Thursday. The_

_Dementors will follow. The only person besides Voldemort who knows right now is Lucius Malfoy. The others will not find out until just before the attack. I hope you get this in time to do something._

_-H.P._

"Here Fawkes," Harry said, allowing the phoenix to grab it in his beak. "Thanks!" Fawkes disappeared as fast as he had appeared in Harry's room. _I hope the Headmaster will be able to stop Voldemort in time. _

A/N: Just a little taste… Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

Previously: "Here Fawkes," Harry said, allowing the phoenix to grab it in his beak Previously: _"Here Fawkes," Harry said, allowing the phoenix to grab it in his beak. "Thanks!" Fawkes disappeared as fast as he had appeared in Harry's room. _I hope the Headmaster will be able to stop Voldemort in time.Chapter Two: In which a surprise is given

"Thank you for coming Severus. I have a dilemma I would you to help me with."

"What is it now Albus?" Snape asked, swatting away the tin of yellow candy in Dumbledore's hand away from himself. "Do you need more advice of how many of those infernal muggle candies to order so they will last you a week?"

"Now, now, Severus," the headmaster chuckled. "You know that was only one time and I have never asked you again – "

"Albus, you locked me in this room, cornered me, and practically force fed me those lemon contraptions after I made it perfectly clear I was uninterested. Then you had the gall to ask me how many more of them to order. As I told you before, if you ever attempt to do that again, I will convince the Dark Lord that the destruction of every lemon drop factory in Europe is vital for him to win this war." Severus sneered at his long time mentor, smirking on the inside and knowing he had won this battle.

"Severus," the headmaster said, his voice betraying the tiniest quiver of fear. "There is no need to make any hasty decisions you might regret later. After all –"

"Albus, is there a reason you called me up here or are you just going to waste my time with this pointless banter. I am an extremely busy man. I have lessons to plan for those dunderheads I have teach, potions to brew for Poppy –"

"Severus, we both know that you never change the curriculum and if you happened to, it would most certainly be finished by now. As school does not start for another month and a half I am quite sure that Poppy can wait." Snape scowled at this thwarting of his escape plan. Dumbledore continued innocently, his eyes twinkling. "Is holding a simple conversation with me truly that bothersome?"

"We both know that there is no such thing as a 'simple conversation' when it comes to you Albus."

"My dear Severus," Dumbledore said, twiddling his thumbs. "I really have no inclination as to what you are referring to." The twinkling in his eyes grew.

"Albus, the 'simpler' the conversation, the more worried I become. The fact that you are sucking on not one, but two of those ridiculous muggle candies is beginning to frighten me far more than the Dark Lord ever has."

"Really my dear boy. You give me far too much credit. However, my lemon drop habits aside, there is a rather serious matter I wish to discuss with you."

"Well, spit it out old man."

"In a moment. First I would like for you to tell me everything you remember from your seventh year to Voldemort's temporary downfall in 1981."

"Albus, you know perfectly well that I hardly remember those years. I remember finishing school with top grades, spying on Voldemort's plans for the Order, and beginning to teach at this school. My memories of that time are hazy at best. I remember waking up in the hospital wing one morning and you telling me that there had been an accident in the potions room. We concluded that the accident cause a form of amnesia. I have yet to regain those memories."

"Would you like to?" Dumbledore asked smiling.

"Of course I would like to!" the potions master sneered. "How many times have we held this conversation? As there has been no recent breakthroughs in memory loss research I think we are finished here. I see no valid reason for you to sit there and remind me of my loss in memory."

"No, we are not finished here. I have a very good reason for asking, unless you would rather stay ignorant of your past."

"Are you telling me that you have found a way to recover my lost memories?" Snape asked incredulously.

"In a sense. You see, I have a minor confession to make." Dumbledore's face turned serious.

"What have you done now old man?" Snape growled. Something key was being kept from him and he was going to find out what it was or there would be hell to pay.

"Well, it is not what I have done, but rather what you asked me to do and my fulfilling of that request. You see Severus, there is a secret from your past that you asked me to protect. If Voldemort were ever to discover it you would be in terrible danger."

"Albus, have you been sucking on one too many lemon drops? I'm. A. Spy. There is nothing more dangerous than that. You know what the Dark Lord does to punish anyone who dares to desert him. What on earth could put me in more danger than my current position? I can not possibly conjure up anything suspicious from my past."

"That is because you requested me to conceal it. The measure we took to ensure this security were great." Dumbledore took a deep breath. "You asked me to… obliviate certain memories so Voldemort would never uncover them accidentally."

"I asked you to obliviate some of my memories?" Snape shouted.

"Severus, do you remember why you became a spy in the first place?" Albus asked suddenly.

"I –" he paused. "I don't remember. I think it was a slow process. One of the raids was too much for me. I couldn't handle it."

"And what of your friendship with Lily Evans? How did that end?"

Severus started at the question, but recovered quickly. "She was a muggle-born. The Dark Lord would have been displeased with my friendship with her if he found out. Then she practically threw herself onto Potter our seventh year. I saw her only in passing between our final year and her death. Albus, why are you drudging up memories that are best left forgotten? I do not see what Potter's wife has to do with this discussion."

"Then I will keep you ignorant no longer and will enlighten you. The reason – "

A flash of fire appeared and Fawkes burst from it, dropping his message in front of a surprised Dumbledore. The headmaster slowly opened it. He scanned it, a resigned look upon his face.

"Tell me Severus," Dumbledore said. "Has Voldemort mentioned an attack on Azkaban in the near future?"

Severus' eyes shot up in surprise. "Azkaban? No. I am positive he will eventually attempt to break his followers out, but he has emphasized that it would not happen until Christmas at least. Why do you ask?"

"Fawkes has just delivered the most intriguing letter, telling me that Voldemort is planning a breakout a week from today. However, he has only let Lucius in on his little secret, so the element of surprise is on our side." Severus looked skeptical.

"If the Dark Lord only told Lucius, then how do we know? He would never dare to betray the Dark Lord so obviously."

"You will just have to trust me that it is from a reliable source. We will have to plan our defense very carefully. This could be just the opportunity we have been waiting for to force Lucius from Voldemort's confidence."

"Who is the letter from Albus? How are you so sure that you can trust him?"

"Who is the letter from? That my dear boy is an excellent question. But I am unsure if it would be wise –"

"Tell me now."

_Here is your opportunity Albus. _The headmaster thought to himself. _Well, here goes nothing. Please hear me out before you murder me Severus._

"Well, Albus, I am waiting." Snape said putting on his best death glare.

"It is from your son, Severus."

A/N: Ooooh cliffie for our poor potions professor! Once again. Reviews are much appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

Previously:

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! I honestly was not expecting very many people to leave comments, but I think 6 reviews are a good start for a first timer, no? Here is thanks to my reviewers:

_Veralidaine_: thanks. I hope this fic measures up to the other ones you have read

_Isvaria_ and _DebsTheSlytherinSnapefan_: Ha ha, I'm you appreciate the cliffhanger

_nilpotter and animehpgirl_: thanks

_mervoparkite_: Thanks for your awesome review! Is my story that transparent? You did hit a couple key points, although there are a few surprises in store concerning James, but you will have to wait to find out! As you will be able to tell from the first few lines, the best Snape reaction is not in response to the last line of chapter 2… I hope you enjoy this fic. It is so hard to be original when there are tons of other ones out there!

And here is a longer chapter. Now that I've started, it is so much easier to put more stuff into the chapters… _On with the story!_

_Previously:_

"Tell me now."

_Here is your opportunity Albus. _The headmaster thought to himself. _Well, here goes nothing. Please hear me out before you murder me Severus._

"Well, Albus, I am waiting." Snape said putting on his best death glare.

"It is from your son, Severus."

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

**Chapter Three: In which father and son completely freak out**

"Albus this not a time for your jokes. Now tell me who wrote you that blasted letter!" Snape was, for lack of a better term, pissed off. He was beginning to wish he hadn't come up to the office. Telling the headmaster to shove off would have been his best option. Damn Albus' manipulative ways and twinkling eyes. All he wanted to do now was go back to his lovely non-secret holding dungeons and brew a forgetfulness potion so he would not remember this last quarter of an hour.

"Severus," Dumbledore said patiently, his eyes still twinkling. "I am being quite serious. This letter is from your son. He has a special –"

"Albus," Severus said calmly and rationally, "I DON'T HAVE A BLOODY SON!"

"Well of course not," Dumbledore said wisely. Snape breathed a sigh of relief. Finally the headmaster would give him a straight answer. "Your son doesn't have any current injuries. I think it is safe to assume that he is quite healthy and blood-free."

"ARGH!"

Dumbledore chuckled quietly to himself as his potions professor lost his composure. _I can't wait to tell him who exactly his son is. Then he will truly loose it. Perhaps I should warn Poppy of my arrival to the hospital wing in advance…_

"Albus, the time for your little jokes was over about ten minutes ago. Now PLEASE tell me who sent you the letter or your lemon drops are toast." Snape growled that last part so menacingly that Dumbledore couldn't help but give a shudder.

"Please believe me when I say that your son wrote this."

"Albus I don't think you understand. I have never truly been involved with a someone. In order for me to have a son, I would have had to have been, erm… _intimate_ with a woman. That is something I would not be likely to forget. And as I know that _that _has never happened, there is no possible chance in nine hells that I could have a son!

Dumbledore listened as Snape ranted for a good five minutes before saying slowly as if addressing a small child. "Severus, you're acting like a three year old who has just had his lemon drops snatched away." Snape shut his mouth quickly with a disgusted look on his face. "Now I know this is difficult for you to digest, but please here me out. Stop it!" he exclaimed sternly, putting his hand up as Snape opened his mouth again with a snarl. "I can prove that it is your son to you. But that will have to wait. First, I think it's time to return your memories to their proper location."

_All right Albus, I'll play your little game, but only to amuse you. As soon as I find out who the mysterious letter writer is, your lemon drops are… oh… how do those muggles say it? Oh right… your lemon drops are so going down. Ugh, what a vile saying. _Snape threw his best I'm-a-death-eater-don't-mess-with-me glare (Glare # 33) at the headmaster before saying: "Fine Albus, you win for now. Let's examine these… memories of mine and then I will determine how real they are."

"Thank you Severus. I promise this will not take up too much of your time today. But there are quite a few memories needed to see in order to learn the whole story."

"Very well. Take all the time you need. It's not as if I'm going anywhere. Not unless the Dark Lord calls me." Snape muttered grumpily.

Dumbledore ignored the last statement, rising slowly from behind his desk. He crossed over to his bookcase and grasped a muggle book (whose title Snape did not recognize) and pulled it down so the spine was resting on the shelf. A panel in the wall opened next to the bookcase. The headmaster looked over at Snape who was raising his eyebrows questioningly. "An old muggle concept to hide treasures from thieves. Many times the simplest tricks are overlooked in search of complicated procedure. No one would ever think to use a muggle trick in a magical office."

Humming merrily, he reached into the wall a pulled out a simple wooden box. Enlarging it and muttering something Snape could not hear, he opened it slowly. Inside were about twenty vials of silvery liquid. _Memories._ They were labeled numerically.

"Let's see here. Why don't we begin with number one?" Dumbledore asked as he carefully withdrew it from the box. He retrieved his pensieve from the cabinet and set it on his desk. "Are you ready Severus?"

"What about this situation with Azkaban? If the Dark Lord really means to attack, should not the Order be alerted? A lot must be done to secure the prison."

"Azkaban must wait for a few hours. Right now, your memories need attending to. Are you ready?" the headmaster asked seriously.

Snape nodded curtly and Dumbledore poured the memory into the pensieve. "Well then," Dumbledore said, grasping his colleague's hand. "Let us take a deep plunge into your past." And with that, they dove in to the younger man's forgotten memories.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry winced as he stood up from his position in front of the garden. For the last three hours he had spent his time carefully weeding and attending to his aunt's garden. He did not really mind doing this; it took his mind from the recent events at the end of the Third Task. It was horrific enough that he kept witnessing Cedric Diggory's death over and over again during the night, he could not afford to dwell on it during the day as well. He was starting to loose weight from lack of eating.

He knew that Cedric's death was not his fault. No, that responsibility went to Wormtail and Voldemort. But he could not help but feel that he should have done something. His mind was filled with dozens of what-might-have-been situations. Ones where Cedric did not grab the cup with him, or where Harry was able to attack Wormtail before he had the chance to kill his friend. There was even one where Cedric his behind a gravestone while the entire scene took place. But Harry knew that most of these were just insulting Cedric's memory. He would not have cowered while Harry faced death.

Examining his day's work, Harry gave himself a mental pat on the back. The garden looked really good despite the intense heat of the past two weeks. It had been his project since his return home to keep the yard in mint condition. It was really therapeutic, concentrating on keeping something alive and in good health. Aunt Petunia had reluctantly given her own praise to his work, even if it was unintentional.

Harry stretched his arms high into the air, feeling something in his back pop into its original place. He massaged his neck, turning his head from side to side to get the blood pumping to his head. Trudging back to the house, he took his shoes off at the door so his aunt would not have an excuse to yell at him.

"Aunt Petunia!" he called, unsure of where she was in the house. "I'm done in the yard for today! Is there anything else you need done?" he added this last part for good measure. There was no need to encourage the silent war between himself and the Dursleys. After all, Dumbledore had said at the end of term that a united group would pose a much stronger resistance to Voldemort than a divided one. Harry figured he might as well begin with his relatives. _Hermione would be so proud of me,_ he thought wryly.

When he first began this endeavor, his relatives had obviously thought it was a trick to lure them into a false sense of security. Recently however, his aunt had begun to realize that he was being sincere and had not been as cold to him. His uncle still concluded that it was more 'freaky stuff' and left him alone for the most part. In other words, he was avoiding Harry like the plague. His cousin Dudley was never home, so Harry had no idea of what he thought of it all.

His aunt was not responding at the moment so Harry glanced out the kitchen window into the front yard. Sure enough the car was gone. She must have gone into town for something. Shrugging, he climbed the stairs to take a shower.

The cold water felt so good running down his back. It was ridiculously hot outside, but this was definitely cooling him off. It was one of those days where you just wanted to run through the sprinkler, no matter how you are. He scrubbed all the dirt off himself and turned off the water. Stepping carefully out of the shower so he would not slip and fall, he grabbed a towel and dried himself off. He quickly glanced into the mirror to see that all the dirt was gone and did a double take.

Someone unrecognizable was staring out at him, eyes wide. Sure the mirror image had his green eyes, but besides that he looked totally different. He rubbed his eyes and looked back at his reflection. His normal James-Potter-look-alike self was once again in place. Unconsciously, Harry rubbed his scar. He must be hallucinating. Maybe he was suffering from heat exhaustion. He decided to lay down in his bed and work on some of his homework.

_Let's see here,_ Harry thought, digging through his trunk. _Flitwick, McGonagall, Snape, or the yet-to-be-doomed DADA professor? _He pulled out his essay topics. _Might as well get the most difficult one out of the way first. Snape's nasty potions essay first then._ He shifted his stuff around until he found a couple feet of parchment and all of his potions texts. It wouldn't hurt him to do this as thoroughly as possible. He would try as hard as he could not to give Snape an opportunity to find something wrong with _his_ essay.

He steadily worked through it, making sure that everything he wrote down was backed up textual evidence. He even created a rough outline so he would have a springboard for his writing. _I wonder if this is what Hermione spends her summer doing,_ he thought, a smile coming to his face as he imagined his best friend poring over obscure texts to put every single bit of information she could into her essay.

Sooner than he expected he heard his aunt call him down for dinner. _Are we having it early today?_ He glanced at his clock and his eyes widened in surprise. It was already 8 o'clock. He had been working on this essay for over four hours! It was actually really interesting now that he did not Snape looming over his shoulder, sneering at every move he made, whether is was correct or not. He had written all he could for now, but at least he only had a few more inches to go. _Hermione would be so proud of me_, he thought for the second time that day.

He rushed down the stairs. He did not want to be rude and keep his family waiting. They would probably begin dinner whether or not he was there, but who knows, perhaps they grew manners since yesterday. Nah.

He walked into the kitchen just as his aunt was putting the final dishes onto the table. Harry sat next to Dudley who was surprisingly on time, while his uncle seemed to be absent. Since Harry's arrival home, his cousin would often show up late to dinner; sometimes he would not even come at all. Harry looked at his cousin and studied him for the first time since last summer. Dudley had lost a lot of weight! He was even, dare he think it, starting to look toned. _How has he done it?_

"How has your day been Harry?" the question startled Harry and he was shocked to realize that it came from his cousin who was currently serving up some salad for himself.

"Erm…" Harry said. "Well, I guess it's been alright. I worked on your mum's garden and started an essay for school."

"Really?" Dudley asked, seeming genuinely interested. "What sort of essay?"

"Er," Harry said, unsure if he should answer the question, lest his aunt die of a heart attack that her baby Duddykins was asking about magic. He glanced over at her. Her eyes were fixed on her meal, but she wasn't saying anything yet.

"Eloquent these days, aren't you?" his cousin smirked. "They must not focus on speaking skill at your school."

"I didn't realize you knew was the word 'eloquent' meant Dudley." The words were out of Harry's mouth before he could stop them. _What am I doing? We are actually having a normal conversation, witty banter even! This is not normal._

To his utter surprise, Dudley just smiled back, chuckling. "I've actually started paying attention in classes this year. I learn a lot of really cool stuff at school. Now, back to your essay..."

"Oh, well, um. It's for my potions class. We mix different ingredients together to make something."

"Like cooking? You're probably really good at it then with all the practice you got here."

"Actually, my teacher is kinda a jerk," Harry said, forgetting that he was talking to his cousin who supposedly hated magic. "He and my dad, er, didn't exactly get along. More like they annoyed the hell out of each other and my teacher sorta takes it out on me. It probably doesn't help that I look exactly like my dad. So he's always singling me out in glance and hovering over my shoulder. I've not done very well in his class."

"Oh, that's too bad. So what other subjects do you take?" at this moment, Uncle Vernon walked in the door, turning purple as he heard his son's question.

"WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE!" he yelled, charging over towards Harry.

"Nothing Pop," Dudley said calmly. "Just asking Harry about his school. Is something wrong?"

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY SON YOU FREAK!" Uncle Vernon grabbed Harry by the collar of his shirt and lifted him up out of his seat.

"He hasn't done anything! We were just having a friendly conversation!" Dudley said frantically, trying to calm his father down.

Uncle Vernon dropped Harry who hit the floor with a bang. "You stay the hell away from my son, boy. If I hear another word of that _freakishness_," he spat the word out with venom. "you will be thrown out of this house and onto the street."

"Vernon," it was the first time his aunt has spoken all evening. "I don't think that is a wise idea."

"And why not? Ever since we took him in, he has been nothing but trouble to us! And now is corrupting our son into accepting that… that… _freakishness _as though it's normal! I will NOT stand for it! I have worked too hard to keep our son from becoming like that boy's bitch of a mother!"

"SHUT UP!" Harry shouted.

"Excuse me boy." His uncle said in a dangerously low voce. Harry could not believe he had put up with his uncle for fourteen year. His uncle was not frightening in the least anymore.

"You heard me _uncle,_" he said in a sickeningly sweet voice. "I am sick of you constantly ragging on me and my DEAD parents! How dare you insult their memory! What the hell did they _ever_ do to you? What did I ever do to deserve your treatment?"

"Don't you dare take that tone with me boy! I have had enough. You've corrupted my son and now my wife? Get out."

"Vernon," Aunt Petunia hissed.

"NO! GET OUT!"

"VERNON!" Aunt Petunia shouted. "What will the neighbors think? And worse… what will _his kind_ do to us when they find out? You know they watch us. That's how they knew where he slept when he got that letter. Who knows what exactly they're capable of? I will not put our family in that kind of danger!"

Uncle Vernon drew a couple of deep breaths, his face still a nasty puce color. "Fine." He growled after a moment. "You can stay boy. But I am warning you. Anymore funny business," he paused, seemingly to collect himself. "I will throw you out of this house, consequences be damned! Now leave us in peace for a while."

"With pleasure!" with that, Harry stormed out of the house.

How dare he? How dare he say those things about his parents? He walked furiously towards the park, children scurrying out of his way as the 'deranged teenager' approached.

"Harry. HARRY! Wait up!" someone shouted from behind. Harry turned to see his cousin jogging towards him.

"What?" Harry snarled reaching towards his wand in his waistband. If Dudley tried anything, he would not know what hit him.

"I just –" he panted stopping in front of Harry. "I just wanted to apologize. For my dad, and well, for not sticking up for you back there."

"Why? Why are being so nice to me all of a sudden? I'm the freak, remember? The one no cares about. The one everyone laughs at or runs away from. The one you used to hunt and beat up before I went to Hogwarts."

"Look, I… I realized a lot of things this past year." Dudley took a deep breath. "I realized that the only reason I was so mean to you was to try and earn my dad's approval. And to try and forget that I was unnaturally overweight. Kids last year… well… they weren't exactly pleasant towards me. They called me fatso and would talk slowly towards me like I was stupid or something. So I worked. I worked hard to loose weight and to get better in school. Now the kids who used to make fun of me are actually my friends. We do stuff, we hang out. It's nice. And then I remembered how awful I've treated you since we were little. I felt terrible because I know now what it was like to be in a position where no one liked you. And I'm sorry for being such a relentless jerk to you in the past. I want to try and make it up to you. I don't care what my dad thinks, there is no excuse for his abominable behavior towards you. Can we call it truce?" he ended hopefully, sticking out his hand.

Harry stared at him. Never in a hundred years did he think he would be faced with this situation. When had his cousin grown so mature? Well, he could always use an ally in the Dursley's home so he grasped his cousin's hand and shook it, a smile crossing his face. "All right coz, I can take that deal. But aren't you worried about your dad. I mean he has serious anger management issues."

"He'll get over it eventually, it's not like he has a choice. He can't kick you me and my mom out."

"Your mom?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Ya," Dudley answered. "She stuck up for you back there, even if it seemed selfish. I've heard her talking to dad when you're not around, trying to get him to let up on you. I think she's on your side."

"Well, that is an unexpected turn. But a nice one. It feels good to know that not all my family hates my guts."

Dudley smirked. "I'll bet it does. Now tell me more about your school. I'm kinda interested to know what a magical school is like."

So Harry told him about his classes, and about the magical castle he had come to call home. He was just describing quidditch when Dudley glanced at his watched and groaned. "Ugh, it's almost 9:00. I gotta hit the gym tomorrow morning before work. We better head back."

"Ya, I still got that potions essay to finish up. I didn't even realize how dark it had gotten." They got up from the bench they had been sitting at. "Hey Dudley." He said, standing there looking at the ground. "Um. Thanks. You know. For sticking up for me back at the house. You did more than you know."

"Oh, um. You're welcome. Er. It was um. Nothing." Dudley finished lamely.

"Now who is the eloquent one," Harry smirked.

"Oh, what a touching moment," came a drawling male voice from behind the two cousins who whipped around at the disturbance. Five tall figures in black cloaks and white masks stood there. "Now don't make any sudden movements Potter, or your life ends tonight."

A/N: Ooooh another cliffie, this time for our poor hero! I figure that since it's summer, I will be able to update quite often. But once school starts up it will be less frequent. But who knows how quickly I will be able to finish this story

Remember, the pretty purple button in the bottom left corner is there for you to press it. Wouldn't want to disappoint it. Please Review!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Wow, I have some great fans out there! Thanks to the following reviewers:

_mervoparkite_: I'm glad that you are looking forward to the memories. It was fun writing them and you will see them in this chappy. It is so interesting reading predictions and knowing whether they are spot on or totally off. I think I have an inkling of what J.K was feeling as she was writing the stories. You will see how accurate your predictions were.

_the-dreamer4_: I always imagined Dudley becoming more mature when Harry was in his 5th or 6th year, rather than right before the 7th. I had SO much fun writing those threats. I always wondered why no one has ever written about Snape using them as leeway to get one up on Dumbly. I can just imagine our lovely headmaster's face. Thanks for your awesome review

_lionesseyes13: _Wow, I can definitely tell you are an AP student. I was so excited to put up my story that I've hardly gone back through to make sure everything was grammatically correct. Thanks for reminding me to do that! I'm glad you are enjoying my story so far.

_Adajsemaj _and _DebsTheSlytherinSnapefan: _I'm glad you like that Dudley and Harry became friends. Harry could always use an ally with his relatives. More about Petunia will be revealed.

_Someone aka Me:_ thanks!

Anyway: _On with the story!_

Previously, with our headmaster and potions professor:

Snape nodded curtly and Dumbledore poured the memory into the pensieve. "Well then," Dumbledore said, grasping his colleague's hand. "Let us take a deep plunge into your past." And with that, they dove in to the younger man's forgotten memories.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

**Chapter Four: In which memories are regained**

_Snape and Dumbledore were standing outside on Hogwarts grounds. They were in a secluded section of trees next to the lake. Snape recognized it immediately. It was the place he always went to when he wanted to get away from everyone, though he couldn't remember when he had stumbled upon it. It was clearly fall, for the trees were beginning to loose their leaves, and there was a certain bite to the air. Suddenly, two people came into view._

"_Come on, quickly Severus!" A 17-year-old Lily Evans came into view dragging a much younger version of the potions professor. Snape was shocked to see himself with her, and his younger self was smiling. "Now Severus, you tell me what has been bothering you! You have been distant since school started over a month ago. Out with it now!"_

_Young Snape lost his grin and tugged his arm out of her grasp. "I- I can't tell you!"_

"_Yes you can, and you must! You can't keep it bottled up inside. Now please, tell me." Lily paused. "Is it about your mother?"_

"_NO!" was the emphatic reply. "No, it's… fine. I'll tell you. But you cannot tell anyone, do you understand? I would get kicked out of school if anyone found out."_

"_Oh, Severus, you are always being so dramatic about –" she stopped at the sight of his left forearm. "Oh, Sev, what have you done?" she started backing away a look of horror on her face._

"_Lily, I can explain…" he started walking towards her. She stopped walking, a suspicious look on her face. He took this as an invitation to continue. "I didn't want it." He said hurriedly. She did not say anything so he continued._

"_It happened at the beginning of the summer. My father tricked me into going to a death eater's meeting. He's always been hinting that he wants me to follow the Dark Lord. I told him that I would think about it, but not make any decisions until my seventh year. I told him that to buy myself some time. Although my father himself is not a death eater, he has always been proud because of our family's pureblood status. My father thought it would the greatest honor to have his only son serve the man who was going to kick all the unworthy mudbloods out of the magical world. My mother, on the other hand, was not as fond of the idea. But what was she to do? My father would hurt her if he knew that she disagreed with him._

_One night, about a week after last term ended, my father called me into his office. He handed me a book that he claimed he wanted me to read. I stood there holding it for about two minutes while he talked to me, before I felt it pull me away. It was a portkey. I found myself transported to a death eater's meeting. The Dark Lord was standing directly in front of me. I don't remember much, only that I felt a searing pain in my left arm and when I looked down…_his_ mark was branded into me. I felt so disgusting and dirty._

_After the meeting I apparated home. I…I threw up everything in my stomach. It happened so fast and now I'm in a situation that I can never back out of. I don't know what to do Lily!" he looked wildly at the redheaded girl who suddenly enveloped him in a hug._

"_Oh, Sev," she murmured quietly into his ear. "We can fix this. It won't be easy but we will. You have to go to Dumbledore. He is the only one who can help you. I'm powerless."_

_Young Snape shoved her away. "You don't understand Lily! Do you know what the Dark Lord does to traitors and deserters? He kills them as slowly and painfully as possible. Then right before they die, he finds everyone they care about and kills them in front of the traitor! I can't let that happen to my mother… to you! If he were ever to find out about our relationship, he would stop at nothing to find you! I won't let that happen!"_

_The elder Snape's eyes widened in shock. Him and Lily Evans? But…but she was infatuated with James Potter! _No, that's not right,_ he thought the memory slowly returning_, she was in love with you and pretended to date James so your relationship could be kept secret.

"_Severus Snape!" Lily yelled. "Voldemort will NOT be able to eliminate me that easily. I should hope I would be able to put up a decent fight. And besides, it would be such a relief to have 'us' out in the open. This is getting harder on James and I to keep this up! Both of us have relationships we are trying to hide!"_

"_You know what would happen if my parents found out about you. They would disown me, send people after you and I…your safety is too important."_

"_I don't care about that!" She yelled. "All I want is to be with you. Whatever happens because of that, then so be it." She paused. "It will be easier to keep us safe while we are at school, with Dumbledore here. Sev, you need to talk to him. I'll come with you. He'll believe you, please trust me on this."_

"_All right," Young Snape muttered. "Let us go see Dumbledore."_

_The two disappeared from view just as the elder Snape felt himself being pulled out of the memory._

Dumbledore looked at him from across his desk, a knowing look in his eye. "Well, Severus, is that part of your memory coming back to you?"

The potions master stared at him. "I- I can't believe it. Me with… _Lily_? I mean, of course I remember now, but then how does this fit in with my having a son? She still married James Potter, any newspaper can tell me that."

_So he hasn't figured that part out yet,_ Dumbledore thought. "Then let us continue. I will let you view the majority of your memories on your own. Many of these are ones of yourself and Lily from years to come, but I have picked out four more to show you that I believe are vital to your knowledge. These are the land marks of those five years." He poured four bottles of liquid memories into the pensieve and once again, grabbed the professor's hand. "Once more into the pensieve." They dived in.

Snape and Dumbledore found themselves in the same clearing, but this time, it was spring. The trees were in full bloom, and the air was calm and sweet. The two colleagues heard three people coming into the clearing.

_Snape was not surprised to see his younger self and Lily come laughing into view. The third person was not expected. It was James Potter. Suddenly Lily smacked James' arm._

"_James, stop making fun of me! You're just jealous that I finally beat you on a Transfiguration exam! Leave me and my red hair out of your comic relief!"_

"_Really James," young Snape said, a small smile gracing his face. "What would Cissy think if she heard what a terrible person you are. She would dump you within seconds."_

"_Speaking of her, where is she? I haven't seen her all day." Lily glanced around. "We did say that we would meet after lunch didn't we? I wonder where she could be."_

"_I don't think she had a very good Easter holiday." Young Snape said quietly. "I tried to speak with her last night, but she brushed right past me. I think something might have happened."_

"_Well I hope that she's all right." James said. "I know she was worried about her parent's reaction towards me. She said that she was going to tell them about us during break."_

All five turned around at the sound of someone running towards the clearing. A young woman with white blonde hair that fell to her waist came around the corner. The elder Snape gasped out loud "Narcissa?" he was completely unprepared for what happened next.

"_James!" she cried, throwing herself into his arms. He held her, kissing the top of her head, and whispered soothing words to her, unsure of what was wrong. After a few minutes she pulled away._

"_What's wrong, Cissy?" James asked her, a worried look in his eye._

"_I –" she stopped trying to put her words together. "I'm betrothed." She whispered finally. James stared at her in disbelief. Lily and Snape looked at each other with shocked looks on their faces before silently leaving their two friends alone._

"_Your – your betrothed? To who?" he asked._

"_Lucius Malfoy." She said brokenly._

"_No," James whispered fiercely. The elder Snape was shocked to see tears forming in his eyes. "I can't – I won't let you marry that… that death eater!"_

"_I don't have a choice, James!"_

"_Why not?" he paused, unsure if he should go on. The tears had broken free and were streaming down his face. "Run away with me, Cissy. Come with me and we'll go and forge a new life someplace where they don't care about blood purity, and don't have to worry about a psychopathic dark lord trying to take over."_

"_I want to James, I desperately want to," she sobbed. "But it's magically binding. __When I refused to agree to the marriage, they forced me to swear an unbreakable vow__. If I don't go through with it, I'll die..." James held onto her fiercely. "And Lucius –" she stopped. Taking a deep breath, she said. "Lucius will find us. He will kill you, or worse. Turn you over to _him. _And if I don't produce an heir within five years, I loose the ability to have children ever again. I love you James, but I can't be with you."_

"_Cissy –" he whispered._

"_Please, don't make this harder than it has to be. I have to do this. I can't abandon Andromeda." She pulled off the necklace she was wearing and put it into James' hand. Tears were running down her cheeks at an alarming rate. "I'm so sorry James. I can't ever see you again. I hope someday that you can find someone who can love you half as much as I do. She will be such a lucky woman. Good-bye."_

_The young woman turned and ran from the clearing. James looked down into his hand and let out a strangled sob. The elder Snape saw that on the chain was a diamond ring._

"_He had proposed to her two weeks before," he said out loud to Dumbledore. "I remember now. They were so happy. She was going home to break the new to her parents when they told her that they had arranged a marriage for her. She was distraught. She tried to kill herself, but I found her and stopped her in time. How is this important for me to see?"_

"_It shows that you did not hate James Potter as you have always thought." Dumbledore answered quietly. "You were actually quite close. You were not the only one to lose someone you loved. He had to endure watching Narcissa marry a monster and bear a son who would be doomed to follow in his father's footsteps. She did not have Lily's strength, and much more to lose besides her life."_

_The memory faded into darkness and another took its place. They found themselves in a small chapel. Snape and James were dressed up and looked older, but a younger Dumbledore was also with them. James was talking to Snape._

"_Will you calm down? You are acting so jittery, it's unnerving. You're always calm and collected. It's your wedding days for goodness sakes!"_

_Young Snape threw his you-better-shut-up-before-I-hex-you glare (#64) at James. "You would be nervous too if it as your wedding day! What if she decides this is a mistake? What if she doesn't show up? I don't know what I would do. I don't deserve her. She is too beautiful, and kind, and compassionate, and –"_

"_Severus," James said quietly, but firmly. "Lily loves you more than life itself. She would do anything for you. She is going to enter this room, take your hand, and become your wife. Try not to mess it up." A grin formed on his face. "After all, she may never forgive you if you ruin her wedding day. Do you know how long they dream about this day? It's absolutely ridiculous!"_

"_Ah, but James," Younger Dumbledore spoke for the first time. "This is a day that usually only comes once in a woman's life. For some, it is the day where they are wearing the most beautiful and expensive dress they will ever wear, and it is all about her. But Lily has a sensible head on her shoulders. I'm am quite sure that she will not maim you too much if you mess up."_

"_Albus, this is not doing anything for me! Stop making me more nervous than I already am or I swear that I'll –" Young Snape paused, trying to come up with a threat that would instill fear into his former headmaster._

"_What will you do Severus? I am not sure that there is anything you can threaten me with that will strike fear into my heart." Dumbledore chuckled and popped a lemon drop into his mouth for good measure._

"_I'll convince the Dark Lord to blow up every single lemon drop producing factory in Europe." Young Snape said menacingly._

_The elder Snape nodded in understanding. "So that is how I came up with that threat Albus. I could not, for the life of me, recall where it came from. I thought it just popped into my head one day. But I see that it works just as well now as it did when I first thought of it." He said this last bit while looking at the younger Dumbledore's face, watching as it turned paler._

"_Yes well," Dumbledore responded, chuckling slightly. "You did manage to find my one weakness, Severus. I have always admired you for that discovery. No one would think that a muggle candy would hold any sway over me. My younger self just realized how creative and frightening you can be when you want to, Severus."_

_Both turned as the door to a side room of the chapel opened and Lily emerged. __She was glowing. She had opted for a muggle wedding dress, rather than the white dress robes. Dumbledore's younger self was ministering the marriage. Snape watched as he married the most beautiful__ woman alive and his younger self seal the bond with a fervent kiss. Everyone in the room, including the invisible watchers, was smiling during the entire ceremony._

_All too soon, the memory shifted once more. This scene found Lily and Severus sitting across from Dumbledore, the young woman looking distraught._

_The elder Dumbledore whispered into Snape's ear, "November 1st, 1979"_

"_What has brought you here today?" pensieve-Dumbledore inquired, looking at the secret husband and wife._

"_Albus," Severus said quietly. "The Dark Lord is onto me, I believe. Lucius has been following me, catching a glimpse of Lily at one point. He has taken his suspicions to the Dark Lord. He is jealous of my good standings with our 'master' and is trying to catch me in a… compromising situation. Sooner or later, my marriage will come out. Something must be done, and quickly."_

"_And what do you think of all of this, my dear girl?" Dumbledore asked Lily._

"_He's right." She said, her eyes bright with tears. "I don't know what to do though. It was just much easier when we were in school. There were so many students to hide what we were doing, and James and Narcissa were there. We were able to cover for each other. But now, Narcissa is married to Lucius Malfoy with a child on the way, and James is so busy at the Ministry so missions with the other Aurors. I haven't seen either of them for weeks!" She could not fight the tears and longer and it was difficult to decipher her speech._

"_And then, there is the Dark Lord," Severus continued when it became clear that his wife could not say another coherent word. "He and the death eaters are attacking here and there. Many times I have no idea where they are going next until it is too late. Until he falls, it is too risky for us to be together. The Fideleus is no option, because I have to be at the Dark Lord's side at a moments notice and there is no one who has the ability to be by Lily's side all day to make sure that she is safe. I think our only option, is to go our separate ways until the Dark Lord is defeated. Once he is gone, we can finally live in peace."_

_Dumbledore looked pensive. "And what of your memories of Lily? The Dark Lord might stumble upon them by accident…"_

"_I don't know what to do Albus. If that were to happen, our sacrifice to separate would be all for naught. But how to you propose we protect our minds?"_

"_Lily's memories can stay safe with her. If something were to happen, it is quite unlikely that the Dark Lord would search her mind for Severus Snape. Your memories, on the other hand… I think we only have one option. I will be honest with you, you will not like it."_

_Dumbledore paused, unsure of how to present his idea as gently as possible. Severus looked at his expectantly._

"_I believe that our only choice is to… remove any happy memory of Lily from your mind."_

_Severus bit back a cry of disbelief as Lily squeaked out something intelligible. Forget every moment that reminds him of what he was fighting for? Could he truly give all of that up? Taking one look at his beautiful wife, he made the decision that would change his life forever. "I'll do it, Albus. But, how are we to keep these memories intact? Obliviation would remove them forever unless we can protect them somehow."_

_Dumbledore seemed to be a step ahead of him. He walked over to his cabinet and removed his pensieve. "Do you know what this is?" he asked, setting it down on his desk._

_Lily gasped in recognition. "Is that a pensieve? I've never seen one before."_

"_Indeed it is. We will leave a copy of the memories in here, and then remove all trace of them from your mind with the Obliviation. Once it is safe, I will simply siphon the memories out of the pensieve and return them to you. Or, you can simply enter the pensieve and watch them, and they will be returned through that manner. Are you ready?"_

_Severus looked at Lily before pulling her into a tight embrace. "I love you so much, my dear tempest." He said his special name for her softly, kissing her hair. "Although I will have no memory of my love for you, it will remain there. It will simply be hidden. When all this is over, we can truly begin our life together. I want us to grow old together, and raise our little ones. I want us to be happy together."_

"_And we will be," Lily whispered. "I will wait for you, Severus. No matter what happens, I will wait for you. I love you. Until we meet again."_

"_Until we meet again, in peace." He confirmed. He kissed her fiercely, with a sinking feeling that this would the last time he would do this for a very long time. He looked into her eyes, those gorgeous emerald eyes for the last time before turning away._

"_My dear," Dumbledore said sadly. "You must leave now."_

_She nodded. With one final kiss, she mouthed 'I love you.' Then she turned and disappeared through the door._

"_Are you ready, Severus?"_

_Severus nodded. "How do I put my memories into the pensieve?"_

"_Take out your wand and place at your temple." Severus did this. "Concentrate hard on Lily. Think of all the times that you have spent with her. Think of her face, her hair, and her eyes. Now slowly pull your wand away." Severus pulled, and saw to his surprise, that a thick, silvery liquid thread seemed to be pulled straight from his mind. "Now, place the thread into the pensieve." As Severus did this, he flashes of the memories swirl in front of his eyes before dissolving into silver liquid._

"_Now, if you would please look at me, and allow me access into your mind so I do not erase anything unnecessarily. Dumbledore pulled every happy memory of Lily to the front of Severus' mind, concentrated and said clearly: _"Obliviate!"

_Severus' eyes glazed over for a few seconds, and the memory faded away once more._

_The elder Dumbledore looked over at Snape who was standing there with tears in his eyes. "I remember," he whispered. "My dearest tempest. My love…Albus, please let us leave these terrible memories. I don't want to see any more of them right now."_

"_There is one more you must see, my dear boy. But this time, it is mine. You must know the truth about your son." They reappeared back in Dumbledore's office, where the headmaster was seated behind his desk, stroking Fawkes' feathers. "This memory takes place two weeks after you and Lily separated."_

_An urgent knock on the door startled Snape and the pensieve Dumbledore. "Come in!" he called, wondering who would be visiting him so late at night. He hoped it was not a student caught out of bed._

_His eyebrows shot up in surprise as Lily Evans came barreling through the door, tears running down her face. "Albus," she gasped through sobs. "I need your help!"_

"_My dear! Please sit down. I will get you a cup of tea. Twinkle!" he called. A small female house elf appeared. "Can you please bring up a cup of your strongest tea for this young lady? It would be very appreciated." The little elf nodded and disappeared. Ten seconds later, she reappeared, holding a tray with a teapot and two cups and saucers. She set them down on the desk and disappeared once more._

_Dumbledore poured them both tea. "Now, my dear, will you please tell me what has you so troubled? I know it is difficult without Severus, but you must be strong for him. What is wrong?"_

"_Oh, Albus," she whispered. "Something wonderful and terrible has happened. I was feeling ill this morning, so I visited St. Mungo's to see what was wrong. The healer told me –" she swallowed a gulp of tea before plunging onwards. "She told me that I'm pregnant. I'm two weeks along." Dumbledore, for once, was lost for words. "I don't know what to do Albus! The child is Severus' but he has no recollection of our marriage and I will not have a child born without a father! Please, I need your help."_

"_My dear child, do not worry." Dumbledore said calmly, although inside, his mind was racing. An idea popped into his head. "Perhaps we need to call an old friend who is experienced with this sort of thing."_

"_What are you talking about, Albus?"_

"_I think we should enlist the help of your old friend, James Potter." He said carefully._

"_But how could he help? __We 'broke up' just after finishing Hogwarts!__ I don't see how he could be of use, unless –" understanding flooded her face. "You mean for me to set up a false marriage between James and I?" "Yes, my dear. I do not think that it would be too far-fetched. Because of Voldemort, you hardly see any of your old acquaintances, and James has been far too busy with the Aurors to keep in touch with anyone except for Remus, Sirius, and Peter. Even with those three, it has been a long time since they have seen each other. I think it would be the perfect ruse."_

"_You're right. I think it is my only option right now. Where is James at the moment?"_

"_He is actually in this castle. I will send Fawkes to fetch him." The phoenix disappeared in a flash of flame and reappeared in the same manner a minute later, James in tow._

"_What is it Albus? The wards are all as strong as ever, I don't believe that there –" he stopped mid-sentence at the sight of Lily, who was still crying silently. "Lily! What in Merlin's name are you doing here at this time of night? Where is Severus?" at the mention of Snape, Lily let out a small wail and covered her face with her hands. Albus explained the situation to James._

_James stood silently through the tale, before looking thoughtful. "Of course I'll help. Since my parents were killed, I have too many possessions and no one to share them with. I would be more than able to provide Lily with protection and a safe house for her child."_

"_Thank you, James!" Lily cried, throwing herself into his embrace. "I don't know how I will ever be able to repay you!" he hugged her, letting her cry until her eyes were dry._

"_Think nothing of it. What are friends there for, if not to help when there is need." He gave a small smile. "Come, we have a fake marriage to certificate to create, and some stories to make up of how we got married without anyone's knowledge. It will work out in the end, I promise. You will have Severus back when this is all over." He looked up at the headmaster. "Albus, we must be off. Thank you for your help. I'll take it from here."_

"_Goodbye Lily, James. Good luck." He responded and they left through the door. The two memory watchers were swept upwards and landed in the headmaster's office._

"A little less than nine months later, Lily gave birth to a beautiful and healthy baby boy on July 31st, 1980. They had to hide the fact that his father was not James, so Lily found a charm to make him look like his pretend father. It had to be reapplied every five years. A bit difficult to pull off, but she gave me instructions to continue with it, should anything happen to her. Her son lives now, attends this school, and has led quite an eventful life."

Severus looked up as a realization hit him. "If Lily gave birth to _my_ son. Then that means –" he stopped, horror seizing him.

"That is correct, Severus." Dumbledore said, the twinkle back in his eyes.

"Harry Potter is my son?" Severus yelled, before fainting dead away.


	5. Chapter 5

Wow. It's been a long time, and I've been a complete jerk. But I guess that's what happens when summer school and college starts up and half your school burns down in a wildfire and your computer loses half its files for no reason… I apologize profusely. However, I have been working on outlining the rest of the story, so hopefully chapters will be updated semi-quickly over the next few weeks.

Thanks to all my reviewers and especially to the-dreamer4 for pointing out a mistake I made in the previous chapter. Now, on with the story!

_Previously:_

"_Oh, um. You're welcome. Er. It was um. Nothing." Dudley finished lamely._

"_Now who is the eloquent one," Harry smirked._

"_Oh, what a touching moment," came a drawling male voice from behind the two cousins who whipped around at the disturbance. Five tall figures in black cloaks and white masks stood there. "Now don't make any sudden movements Potter, or your life ends tonight."_

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

**Chapter Five: In which a bunch of stuff happens**

Harry's brain was moving faster than the speed of light. _Think, Harry, think! Stall for time until you figure out what to do!_ he thought. If he could only reach his wand without the death eaters seeing him do it. But that would be impossible unless there was a distraction to draw their attention away.

"Malfoy! I would smile and say how nice it is to see you again, but I don't think that lying is an admirable quality, do you? I thought I wasn't due to hear your dulcet tones until the end of the school year again. Did you miss me that much?" _Wow, way to be, Harry. Piss off the guy who is pointing a wand at your face. Very smart. _

The figure in the front of the group of death eaters stood very still, whether from shock or from rage, or both, Harry did not know, but his plan was almost working. Then the figure relaxed and pulled the mask away to reveal Lucius Malfoy's sneering face. "Well Mr. Potter, it seems you have grown a backbone since our little meeting in June," he almost seemed amused. "Did the filthy Hufflepuff's death spur on this new development, or was it –"

"Don't you dare speak about Cedric that way you fat piece of shit!" Harry was surprised at how calm his voice sounded. It betrayed the fact that rage was coursing through his body, ready to burst from his hands at any moment. _What is wrong with me?_

"And tell me, Potter, what are you going to do about it?" Malfoy smirked at Harry's silence, clearly enjoying Harry's helpless state. Two of the larger masked figures chuckled stupidly. "Your anger would be touching I suppose, if it were not for someone so worthless." Harry's fury flared again. "Now, I grow tired of this useless and witless banter. The Dark Lord wants you in one piece so he can kill you, but that doesn't mean we can't play with you before we leave. I have been trying to get into your house for the past week, but unfortunately, those blasted wards that Dumbledore put up would not let us. Because of you, the Dark Lord has been taking his anger out on us, and I can tell you that it will not happen again."

"What won't happen again? The part where you don't get into my house, or where Voldy curses the hell out of you?" _Come on people… where are all the people? It's not that late at night. Someone, anyone, please come!_

Malfoy stopped short, his smirk gone. "Are you really that dim-witted to think that someone is going to come and rescue you? Your attempts to stall for time are quite transparent and obnoxious. I have warded the place. No one can see or hear us. You have run out of luck this time Potter."

The five figures slowly moved forward and began to encircle the two cousins. Dudley was slowly crouching into a fighting stance, although Harry was not sure what good it would do against wands. At least Dudley had not said anything stupid yet. The situation was beginning to look rather hopeless. If he reached for his wand, then the death eaters would be sure to at least stun him, if not blast a fewkilling curses at him or Dudley. _What to do? What to do?_

"Now, let me see," Malfoy said slowly, the smirk sliding back onto his face. "Who shall we play with first? The precious Boy-Who-Lived? Or perhaps the mudblood's filthy cousin?"

"You leave him out of this! He has nothing to do with any of this, and it's me you want!" Harry half yelled. His fury at the complete lack of appreciation for life was growing exponentially. _Calm down, Harry, before you do something incredibly stupid! _He told himself sharply. _But how can I be calm and collected when the person standing if front of me has an insane desire to torture people for fun? If I could just get my hands around Malfoy's scrawny, pureblood neck, I would not need my wand to hurt him. _

"Tut, tut, Mr. Potter. Rash outbursts will get you nowhere," Malfoy's eyes turned to Dudley and a masked figure guffawed with laughter. "However, this time, it will prolong your suffering. Since you insisted so earnestly, we will start with the muggle slime."

Harry could not contain his rage any more. He snarled, and with a snap, his magic burst forth and smashed into the five death eaters. Each of them was lifted into the air and blasted back ten feet, a few of their flight patterns halted by trees. Harry quickly drew his wand from his waistband and pointed it at Malfoy who was lying unmoving on the ground. He slowly advanced towards the prone figure, unsure if he should utter any spells in case the Ministry should find out.

"Dudley, run back to the house and stay there," Harry was surprised at how calm Dudley was at the moment, considering he had just come face to face with five people who wanted to torture and kill him. "Right now it's the safest place for you. I'm not sure if these are the only death munchers in the neighborhood right now. There might be more out there."

"But what about you, Harry?" Dudley asked, looking skeptical. "What just happened here? Don't you need your wand thingy to do magic? And I thought that you weren't allowed to do magic outside of school. Dad will be furious if he finds out what happened."

"Look Dudley," Harry said, frustrated. "I'm not quite sure myself, but I will try and explain everything as best as I can when I get back. Right now I need to figure out a way to get these creeps locked up safely. I'll be fine. I have my wand and I won't be caught off guard again."

"OK, Harry," Dudley said, looking slightly unconvinced. "I'll make sure to not mention this to Mum and Dad. We don't need them to over-react now, do we?" He cracked a smile and began to jog in the direction of the house, looking around surreptitiously for signs of danger.

Harry turned back to his current problem at the moment: how on earth was he going to alert someone that five death eaters – one of which was supposed to be an upstanding citizen of the wizarding world – had just attacked him and were now out cold because he had performed unexplainable magic? It had not felt like the accidental magic he had unleashed on Aunt Marge two years ago. It felt as though something dormant had just awoken inside him. He could not explain it properly. _And why haven't I received a letter telling me that I'm expelled from Hogwarts? I have certainly broken the law, performing magic in front of my muggle cousin in the middle of a muggle neighborhood! _Shoving aside his thoughts on this unusual magic and the Statute of Secrecy, his brain scrambled for a solution to his dilemma. Suddenly he remembered the strange occurrence that happened this morning.

"Fawkes?" He said timidly into the quiet evening air. "Fawkes," He tried, a bit more boldly. "I need your help. I need to –" he stopped. Now he was just sounding ridiculous. He waited a minute, hope slowly fading. Just as he made to go back to his aunt and uncle's house, Dumbledore's gold and scarlet phoenix burst into sight for the second time that day. "Wow. Thanks Fawkes!" The phoenix trilled gratefully as Harry patted his head.

"If I round up these death eaters, do you think you could transport them to Dumbledore? He will know what to do with them."

The phoenix let out a note indicating that indeed he could manage the job easily. It took Harry a few minutes to drag the men together and put all of their arms in the middle so they were touching. They were heavy. This way, Fawkes could grab onto all of them. For good measure, Harry pulled off the masks of the remaining figures. He recognized Crabbe Sr. and Goyle Sr. No wonder, they were so hard to move. The other two, however, looked very familiar, but he could not remember their names. Once Harry finished, the phoenix held out one of his claws, which contained a roll of parchment and a muggle pen. Harry looked at the items incredulously, the chuckled:

"What in the world is Dumbledore doing with a muggle pen?" At Fawkes blank stare, Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, never mind, Fawkes. I guess we will never be able to figure out the eccentricities of Albus Dumbledore. Since you took the bother to bring me some writing things, I guess I should write him a note telling him what just took place."

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_Five Death Eaters just attacked my cousin and me in Little Whinging. I'm sending them to you with Fawkes. You can figure out what to do with them. Malfoy told me they tried to break into Number 4, but were unsuccessful, because the wards are still in place. Are those the blood wards that Voldemort was talking about? The ones that are in place because of my mother? I will try and remain in the house as much as possible until I can leave safely or someone sends for me. I managed to knock the Death Eaters unconscious, but this weird magic sort of burst out of me. I couldn't contain or control it, but it wasn't accidental magic, it was something else. Do you have any ideas?_

_Harry_

"Here you go, Fawkes, that should do it. Tell him I'm sorry I didn't have more time to be more eloquent," Fawkes chuckled in a way only a phoenix could, and disappeared with the five robed men in a flash of fire.

As soon as the magnificent bird vanished, Harry set off towards Number 4 Privet Drive, just wanting to go to sleep after the eventful day he had just experienced.

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_Previously, back at Hogwarts:_

_Severus looked up as a realization hit him. "If Lily gave birth to _my_ son. Then that means –" he stopped, horror seizing him._

"_That is correct, Severus." Dumbledore said, the twinkle back in his eyes._

"_Harry Potter is my son?" Severus yelled, before fainting dead away._

Dumbledore stared dumbfounded at the empty chair that his potions master had just occupied. _Did Severus Snape just…_ faint_? This day just keeps getting more and more unpredictable. Well, I'll just wait for him to wake up on his own. No need to rush him._ With that conclusion, he summoned some tea from the kitchens and conjured up a tea cup with a flick of his wand. He sat chuckling quietly to himself for about twenty minutes, watching the sun sink behind the mountains. Fawkes was sitting by his side, trilling contentedly as Dumbledore patted his head.

Unexpectedly, Fawkes snatched a roll of parchment from his desk and stuffed his beak into an open drawer, withdrawing a muggle pen. Dumbledore chuckled at his companion:

"Fawkes, how did you know where I kept those? What are you doing – " but before Dumbledore could finish his sentence, Fawkes disappeared in a flash of fire for the second time that day. "Really, Fawkes, I must insist that you discontinue startling me like that. It really is not good for my health…" Dumbledore gazed at the grandfather clock and let out a sigh. "Well, I suppose that Severus has napped for long enough. After all, I'm not paying him to sleep."

Just as Dumbledore made to _enervate_ his colleague, Snape groaned and sat up slowly, trying to grab onto the chair he had been sitting in. Clutching his head, the potions master gave the headmaster his "you-embarrassed-me-and-now-you-are-going-to-pay-dearly-for-it" glare (Glare #4). Dumbledore, on the other hand, was not the least bit worried. He had seen this particular glare too many times to be anxious. The younger man would calm down in a few minutes.

"OK, old man," Snape growled, the glare still adorning his face. "You have two minutes to explain how Harry bloody Potter is my son, and why I did not know until now, and the explanation had better be good."

"Severus," Dumbledore sighed. "I really do not understand what is unclear. You loved Lily very much, and when two people are married they – " Snape cut him off:

"That's not what I meant, old man, and you know it!"

"Severus, please calm down – "

"I will NOT calm down!" Snape jumped to his feet. "You wouldn't be acting like someone put a dozen cheering charms on you if you just found out you had a wife and a son you never even knew existed! Especially if you had spent every moment hating him because you thought he was the son of whom you thought was your childhood enemy! You have NO idea of what I am going through right now! Now explain!"

"Severus, I do not know what you want me to explain," Dumbledore held up his hand as Snape made to interrupt him again. "Please, let me talk to you for a moment," as Snape sat down grudging, Dumbledore went on. "Lily did not find out she was pregnant until after your memories were obliviated. She really had no choice in the matter, but to seek a false marriage. After Voldemort vanished that Halloween night, you and I both knew that he was not truly gone, and it was inevitable that he would return. With that in mind, I thought it would not be safe for you to regain your memories, in case you needed to continue spying in the future."

"But why now, Albus? Why give me my memories back with the Dark Lord newly resurrected? You need a spy in his network now more than ever."

"There are a few reasons. The first is that having knowledge of your son in your mind carries the same risk of discovery that being a spy has. If Voldemort can find one, he will find the other. It is true that you are now in more danger than ever before, but if there is one thing that I have realized over the years, it is that you are quite stubborn and would rather make your own choices, then have me make them for you.

The second reason is because of your son. The spell has to be reapplied every five years. Your son turns fifteen in less than a week, which means – "

"Which means that the spell has to reapplied this summer," Snape finished. "But how did you reapply the spell when he was younger? Surely he would have remembered you."

"You forget that I can make myself invisible when I wish to. I apparated to Number 4 Privet Drive with the hopes of catching him outside. I was lucky those days and I managed to reapply the charms quickly and then returned to the castle. No one knew I was there."

"Did he seem happy to you?" Snape asked quietly.

"I will be perfectly honest by telling you that I did not stay long enough to observe him fully. This brings me to my third reason. I have long heard rumors that Harry's life with his muggle relatives is not a good life. I knew the moment I left him with his aunt and uncle that he was not have the best childhood, but unfortunately, the blood magic fueling the wards was too important. I had to sacrifice some of his childhood happiness in order to secure his survival. I have always regretted leaving him there, but I would rather have him grow up with the opportunity of living his own life than to leave him in a venerable situation where one of Voldemort's followers might find him.

However, I believe that he is now old enough to decide for himself who he wished to live with: his mother's sister and her husband, or you, his father. If he wishes to stay with his aunt and uncle and continue to live his regular life, than nothing changes. We reapply the charms and he returns to the Dursley's house for the remainder of the summer. However, if he chooses to live with you than Harry Potter must disappear. It would be far too dangerous for both of you should anyone find out, even his closest friends or one of the other staff members. Of course, you can always assert your guardianship and lay claim to him, but somehow I do not think he would take that quietly. He is not the sort of young man who appreciates people planning his life for him as if he did not exist."

"What do you mean 'Harry Potter must disappear?'" Snape was slightly confused on the subject. "How are you going to hide the wizarding world's most famous celebrity from everyone?"

A flash of fire interrupted their conversation as Fawkes came into view along with five men in death eater robes. The phoenix glided over to Dumbledore, crooning proudly as he delivered Harry's letter into the headmaster's outstretched hand. Snape quickly stunned the figures to ensure they would not wake up suddenly.

"How on earth did Fawkes manage to mysteriously appear with five Death Eaters?" Snape asked, looking incredulously at the men slumped on the ground. "Lucius Malfoy and Crabbe, Goyle, Avery, and Nott? They are a slippery lot, Lucius being the most slippery of all, but this should have been impossible!"

"It seems that your son had a busy day," Dumbledore chuckled, holding out the letter. "Do you wish to read his letter he sent me? Very concise and quite interesting. He seems to have inherited some of your powers."

Looking confused, Snape took the letter and read it slowly. "Not very eloquent," he snorted lightly. "But short and to the point. How on earth did those death eaters manage to find him though? I thought it was supposed to be impossible."

"I have a few theories," Dumbledore said. "Most of them dealing with Lucius Malfoy."

"Do you think that was actual wandless magic he performed?"

"I have no doubt it was wandless, but whether or not it can be repeated is to be seen. Perhaps with a bit of training, he can use it to his advantage. It is clearly powerful, considering he knocked out five grown men in one swoop. I'm surprised he did not kill them on accident. However, he has provided us a means of hiding himself, should he chose to do so."

"What do you mean?"

"I will explain should the need arise. For all we know, Harry might not want to change anything about his life."

"Why is it all up to the boy? Shouldn't I have any say in the matter? What if I don't want to be a parent?"

Dumbledore looked at Snape with such a piercing gaze the younger man thought his mentor was boring into his soul. "Can you honestly say that you would abandon your child to muggle relatives who dislike him because of his magic? Yours and Lily's child? After all that has happened, don't you think he should at least be given the opportunity to have a loving parent in his life who does not want to use him because he is the Boy-who-lived?"

"But I don't know the first thing about being a parent! How would I know what to do? Bloody hell, he is a teenager!"

"Do you think that you would be alone in this? I would certainly be here if you needed my help, and although the rest of the staff would be unaware of your son's identity, I know for a fact that Minerva has always wished that someone on staff had a child for her to help take care of. All of us would be here to support you."

"He hates me Albus! I have never given him any reason to like me in the past four years. I have gone out of my way to make him hate me!"

"You might be surprised, Severus," Dumbledore said quietly. "Harry has an incredible capacity to love, despite every trial he has undergone. He has gone through experiences that would break a normal person, experiences that turned Tom Riddle into Voldemort, yet Harry remains noble and caring. He has surrounded himself with friends who would die for him, who love him for who is he is, and not for the title the world has given him. All he wants is to be a normal child, but life is not giving him that option. If you give him the opportunity, I think he will take it."

Snape sat silently for a few minutes, contemplating the decision. "Very well," he said at last. "You can tell him about me and then let him decide what he wished to do about it. You can do it just before school starts up again."

"Severus, I will tell Harry if you wish, but I think it would be better if it came from you. Or, would you rather he view the pensieve memories himself?"

"Yes, yes. That would work just as well, I suppose," Snape said distractedly. "When shall someone fetch him?"

"Tonight."

"Excuse me? Why so soon?"

"Because, Severus, the spells would have to be reapplied by his birthday which in less than a week, and also because my plan has to be put into motion as soon as possible to avoid any mishaps."

"Mishaps? What crazy hair-brained scheme have you come up with now, Albus?"

"I already told you, I will not say anything until Harry decides what he wants to do. Now," Dumbledore said, standing up. "I would like for you to go and fetch Harry from his aunt and uncle's house as soon as possible. You will need to apparate right up to the wards on their house in case any other of Voldemort's followers are there attempting to breach the wards. You will not be allowed to apparate through the wards, so you must appear in a secluded area. There is a cluster of trees nearby that I have found useful from time to time."

"And how will I know where that cluster of trees is? I have never been there before."

"True. Why don't I just create a portkey? That would be easier, and you don't even have to walk out of the castle to get there." He grabbed the muggle pen Fawkes had returned with and tapped it with his wand, muttering _Portus._ The pen glowed bright blue for a few seconds before settling back into its normal hue of light.

"There we go!" the headmaster said brightly. "Now off you go! Oh, and Severus," he added. "Try not to aggravate the boy. He might be a tad bit hostile towards you at first, but try not to take in personally."

"Thank you, Albus," Snape snapped back. "I'll try and keep that in mind when I'm holding myself back from strangling the boy because of his cheekiness and arrogance."

"Now, now, my dear boy. You should realize by now that Harry is not James. You cannot go around assigning characteristics on people because of blind prejudices that should no longer exist. You know how James truly was now, and as you are Harry's father, I think you should be more worried about his sharp tongue and death-glares."

"Please, Albus, I can assure you that there is no possible way in hell, that the boy can best me in the glares department. I have been practicing them on my peers and the dunderheaded students for years. As for his 'sharp tongue,' that boy has no more wit than the Weasleys have gold."

"Actually, I hear that the Weasley twins have come into a fair amount of gold recently."

"Really Albus, and where would you have heard that from?"

"A smart man never reveals all of his sources of information, Severus," Dumbledore stated matter-of-factly. "You of all people should know that. I would have used the phrase: 'a magician never reveals his secrets' but I was unaware if you were familiar with the phrase and I did not want you to appear ignorant."

"Of course I have heard the phrase before. Lily was a muggle-born. She made sure to 'educate' me in all the necessary muggle terms. After her parents died and Petunia started acting like even more of a bitch dating that muggle, she had very few ties left to the muggle world."

"Yes, I imagine it must have been a difficult time for her."

"It was a difficult time for all of us, Albus." Snape growled. "Lily most of all. She was facing danger at every turn between our secret marriage and her being a muggle-born. She would have been the prime candidate for an attack by the death eaters. Having her in the Order certainly did not help."

"Although I was never in her situation exactly, I know I can understand the pressure she was under." Dumbledore glanced at his grandfather clock once more. "Goodness me, it is getting quite late and you still have a son to pick up. Now, when you have collected him and all his belongings, I want you to bring him here to my office. If you hold the portkey and say "home" it will send you straight here. Good luck, Severus, and do try not do damage the poor muggles."

"Why would I want to 'damage the poor muggles?" Snape asked, arching a single eyebrow skeptically.

"But why would I spoil all the surprises, my dear boy? However, you never know when parental instincts will kick in."

Snape snorted loudly, something quite out of his usual character, muttering something about crazy, senile old men as he took hold of the portkey. He felt a tug behind his naval as he was whisked off to an unknown part of England, wondering how on earth he was going to do this without causing a ruckus.

Dumbledore watched the man he had come to consider a son disappear from his office. He let out a very quiet chuckle as he imagined the scene that was about to take place between father and son. Little did he know just how much of a ruckus Snape would be causing in Number 4 Privet Drive.

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Harry had never been more glad to see the front door of his relative's home than that night. After all the craziness of the day, from that vivid dream to the lovely visit from five murderous death eaters, he was glad to be safe under the wards, even if he did not understand them. Dumbledore had told him that the wards would keep him safe, and he fully trusted in Dumbledore, but he was still a bit confused about the whole thing.

_Why did I need blood wards to keep me safe when I was growing up? I understand the need for them now. Without them I would have been killed in my sleep or woken up to Voldy Wart's smiling face in some dungeon. _Harry frowned when that thought came up. _How did those death eaters know that I lived here? It's not as if anyone besides Ron and his family knew, and I should hope that none of them would betray me to Voldemort. Any of them would be killed on the spot for being a blood-traitor. _

Harry opened the front door and quickly shut the door behind him. Even if there were wards up, he was still wary of people watching him. Simply because they could not come _in_ to the house, did not mean they could not spy on him. Thank goodness his aunt always kept the curtains shut to keep nosy neighbors from looking into their sitting room at night. _Sometimes, Aunt Petunia is a blessing in disguise_ Harry though wryly, a smile forming on his face.

He peered through the curtains and noticed a dark figure standing in front of the house looking right at him. He snapped the curtain back into place, a jolt of panic shooting through his stomach. He peered back out the window, and the figure was gone. _Stop being so paranoid, Harry_ he scolded himself. _You are only going to make yourself miserable acting like this all the time. You are completely safe from harm in this house._

"What are you doing, boy?" a voice thundered out from behind Harry. He almost jumped a foot in the air, the voice startled him so much. Harry felt a large, meaty hand grab his shoulder hard and soon found himself face to face with his very large and furious uncle. _What have I done this time?_

"What were you doing, peering out the window like a deranged criminal?" Spittle was flying from his uncle's mouth. "Do you want the neighbors to think we are spying on them?"

Harry bit back the retort he was thinking. _What does he think Aunt Petunia does with every moment of her spare time when she isn't cleaning? She is the one he should be worrying about, not me._ He opened his mouth to attempt a lame excuse.

As if Uncle Vernon could read his mind, he cut Harry off and shouted: "Don't you even think of trying to change the subject boy or blaming your freaky habits on us! If I had had my way of it, you would have been thrown back out onto the streets like the filth you are!"

They heard the front door shut and whirled around to see who had come in. They heard pounding in the hallway and realized that Dudley was headed into the kitchen. Uncle Vernon turned his attention back to Harry.

"Now, answer me, boy," he growled menacingly, grabbing at Harry's collar. "Why were you home so late? What sort of freaky business were you up to this time?"

"Nothing, Uncle Vernon," Harry said as politely as he could with his windpipe being constricted by the fat man's grip on his shirt. "I took a walk to the park, saw Dudley pass, and knew that it was time to come back. I took the long way home, that's all."

"Don't lie to me boy!" his uncle shouted. "I know you are up to something no good. Your aunt is making excuses for you more than ever now, and don't forget that I caught you putting rubbish into my son's head earlier! But you haven't fooled me. I see straight through that dim-witted plan of yours. If you think you can pull the wool over my eyes, think again, boy! Any more _abnormalness_ and it's back into the cupboard for you. You still deserve punishment from what happened last summer."

"Uncle Vernon, I swear I wasn't doing anything!"

"It's true dad!" Dudley said, entering the room. "I saw him in the park on my way home. All he was doing was sitting there. He wasn't up to anything."

Harry felt relieved for a moment. _Did Dudley just stick up for me?_ His relief was short lived as his uncle let out a terrible roar and backhanded him across the face. Harry smashed into the wall and crumpled to the ground, clutching his head where he could feel blood pouring out from where something sharp had cut open a wound. He tried to stand back up, but his uncle knocked him down again, shouting at the top of his lungs:

"ENOUGH! You have corrupted my son for the last time!"

"Dad!" Dudley shouted, running forward. "What are you doing? Are you mental?"

"WHAT DID HE DO TO YOU?" Vernon shouted, shaking his son by his shoulders, as if some foreign magic would siphon out. "Son, this is your no good freak of a cousin? Why are you trying to protect him? He's completely brainwashed you!"

"No dad," Dudley said boldly. "I'm finally doing what's right. You have no right to treat Harry like this! What's he ever done to you?"

"That's it boy," Harry was shocked at Vernon speaking to Dudley like that, until he turned to face Harry. Then he understood. "You will NEVER return to that school of yours!" Harry saw his uncle grab a poker from the fire pit and raise it up over his head. Just as he was about to bring it down on top of Harry, his uncle stopped, strangely frozen, unable to move. Harry sat there in shock, unable to process what had just happened.

_Is this more unexplainable magic? I didn't even feel anything! What is going on?_

"I do believe that _I_ have seen enough abuse, you filthy, half-swine, pathetic, miserable muggle," came a low and dangerous voice from across the room. Harry looked around frantically, trying to figure out where the apparently disembodied voice was coming from, but the room seemed to be spinning in front of his eyes. He was losing so much blood.

_I know that voice… but where have I heard it before?_ The room swam back into focus for a few moments, just in time for Harry to see the last person he ever expected to see in his aunt and uncle's living room. Even Voldemort would have been more likely to appear here, and he had blood wards to break down.

"If you lay another finger on that child I do not believe I will be able to stop myself from tearing you limb from limb."

_I must be going mad… or dreaming. There is no way that the greasy git, miserable old bat, also known as Severus Snape, could be here defending me against my insane uncle!_ Before Harry could process anything else, however, the room swirled around in his vision once again, and he fell deep into unconsciousness.

_Next Chapter: We see this scene played out from Snape's point of view, and Harry is given some shocking news…_


	6. Chapter 6

Well, here is the next chapter! My longest one yet. My goal is make each chapter a bit longer than the previous one until I reach a decent length. Thanks again to all my readers and reviewers! The usual disclaimer applies.

On with the story!

_Previously:_

_I must be going mad… or dreaming. There is no way that the greasy git, miserable old bat, also know as Severus Snape, could be here defending me against my insane uncle!_ Before Harry could process anything else, however, the room swirled around in his vision once again, and he fell deep into unconsciousness.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Chapter 6: In which a son is rescued and a father comes forth

Snape appeared in the midst of a cluster of trees._ Well, I really shouldn't be surprised. Albus_ did _say this is where I would end up. Now, let's see what my… er… _son_ is up to._ Snape peered out from among the tree and down the street. Two perfect rows of identical houses stretched out before his eyes. Each house had yards of yellow grass from the drought, although Snape was willing to bet anything that in years past, they were green and fresh. As he scanned the sight in front of him, he noticed a particular house that stood out. This one had quite the yard with its immaculately trimmed green grass and pruned flowers. _I thought the muggles tried to cut back on water during a drought, not use it more than usual. Now, which one is Number 4?_

Just as Snape was about to step out from his hiding place behind the trees, a lone figure appeared from an alleyway, walking as fast as he could without running. He was taller than Snape remembered, but he could recognize that mess of raven-black hair anywhere. The young man turned his head in Snape's direction and bright, emerald green eyes flashed in the moonlight. _That is my son. He has my Lily's beautiful emerald eyes. If only Lily could be alive to see her son almost fully grown. She would be so proud. I wonder what he really looks like? Oh snap out of it! It's not as if the boy will want _me_ for a father. Not when he has that mutt and werewolf drooling all over him._ Snape was a bit shocked to feel disappointment running through him. He quickly pushed that foreign feeling away, shaking his head as if trying to have the intruding emotion expelled from his head. That was the last thing he needed: to get his hopes up that his son would be able to move past the previous five years and want a father like him.

The potions master watched as his son – he did not know what to call the boy as 'Potter' was clearly out of the question, and 'Harry' did not seem to fit him anymore – hurried up the driveway and stop for a moment at the door. He seemed to be hesitant about something, although Snape had no idea what about. It was not that late at night, and surely his relatives would not care. They probably had no idea that the most feared dark lord in centuries has been reborn, let alone that five death eaters just tried to kidnap, and possibly kill their nephew.

_Ignorant muggles_, Snape thought savagely. _Even if they did know, would they care? The Petunia I remember hated her sister. I only hope that hatred did not transfer to her nephew._ His son turned the handle on the front door and walked inside. Snape walked quietly towards the house that had just been entered, and saw that it was the same house that stood out with its green and vibrant lawn. _I should have known. Petunia was always obsessed with everyone's opinion of her and especially her image. That worry seems to have intensified over time._

Snape looked up at the house and was surprised to find his son peering out from behind a closed curtain. _What on earth is he doing? _Then it came to him._ Of course. He is probably extremely paranoid right now because of the death eater attacks. _Snape stood completely still as his son's head turned all of sudden and black eyes met green. _Stupid! Stupid man!_ Snape scolded himself. _What is he going to think now? How often does a man wearing black robes come and stand staring at his house? Please don't raise an alarm. I really do not wish to deal with Petunia and her lard of a husband right now._

Snape fears were unfounded as Harry disappeared from sight. Quickly disillusioning himself, Snape crept quietly to the door. He found the door unlocked and swiftly entered the house, shutting the door as quietly as he could behind him. He heard voices silence and once again cursed himself for not being quieter. He waited for someone to come and investigate, but the only movement was a rather large boy thundering into the kitchen.

_Must be Petunia's son. How could two boys be raised by the same adults and only one of them turn into a small whale? Did they starve their nephew? _Not wanting to consider where _that_ train of thought would take him, he stood in the entranceway, attempting to come up with a way to remove his son from this house without alerting any of its more… _sensitive_ inhabitants to his presence. Snape could sense another headache coming on, and dealing with close-minded muggles was a sure way to double the pain.

His planning was interrupted by a raised voice coming from a room close by. Curious, Snape crept forward, and a sight that made him stop dead greeted him. His son was on the ground, clutching his head as blood oozed out from between his fingers. Snape froze at the sight of his son's blood. His mind was screaming for him to move, but for some reason, his body was unable to function properly. _Move Severus! _His mind screamed. _For God's sake move it! That man is going to kill your son!_

Time seemed to slow down. Snape finally regained use of his limbs and realized that the large muggle was bearing down on his son with an extremely sharp fire tool. He flicked his wand towards to man and was satisfied to see him freeze, unable to move. Snape watched his son look at his uncle in shock.

"I do believe that _I_ have seen enough abuse, you filthy, half-swine, pathetic, miserable muggle," Snape said in the lowest and most dangerous voice he could muster. He was seething with rage, and it was radiating off of him in alarming waves. _How could_ anyone_ strike a child, let alone attempt to kill one?_ Snape knew that abuse was not unheard of among wizarding families, especially in families where one or more member was a death eater, but a child's life was still prized far above most other things in life.

Seeing his son in obvious pain brought to Snape's mind scenes from his own childhood of loneliness and the never-ending anger from his violent father. Pushing the memories back, he knew he needed to focus on the task at hand: get his son out of this hellhole and into the safety of Hogwarts. He saw his son finally collapse from blood-loss, and that brought him out of his reveries.

He levitated the boy's uncle over by the fireplace and cast a quick stunning spell on him. Snape did not need the obese man to jump him unexpectedly. Snape glanced over to the other boy in the room and saw that he was frozen stiff, his eyes wide with fear. Snape could not tell if that fear was directed towards himself or to his cousin's current state, he found that he did not really care. Satisfied that the muggle boy would not hinder him, Snape moved swiftly over to his son to assess the damage that had been done.

There was a rather nasty wound on the boy's head, but luckily, that could be easily closed up. Snape knew that there would also be bruising along the boy's back and sides, possibly a few cracked ribs. Poppy could take care of those injuries at Hogwarts. Right now, he had to stop the bleeding from the child's head.

Snape had learned early on in his magical studies that healing charms and potions were a necessity to keep up a foolproof façade. Not only did he need them after every summer to hide the abuses of his father, but he also needed them inside the walls of the castle. Many of his peers at Hogwarts came from abusive families and in turn took their anger out on other students, especially the more defenseless first and second year students. A small, scared voice came out from behind him:

"Please, sir," Dudley said quietly, yet urgently. "Will Harry be alright? Can you fix him with your wand?"

Snape froze, anger welling up inside him, but he realized that the boy was actually concerned for his cousin's health. No fault rested on either of the boys, only the fat lard of a man currently stunned in the corner.

"Yes, your cousin will recover from his physical injuries, although I'm not sure what psychological damage has been done." Snape paused, unsure if he wanted to know the answer to his next question, but asked it anyways. "Is this the first incident of its kind, or is it a… _common_ occurrence?"

"This is the angriest I have seen my father this summer," The boy thought for a moment. "Harry occasionally has a bruise or two about him, but I don't know if my father is to blame. Before this summer, though, it hasn't happened since before Harry got his letter from Hogwarts." Dudley chuckled without humor. "I think it stopped then because my parents thought that wizards were watching Harry and they were afraid of what would happen if anyone found out."

Snape was waving his wand over his son's head, pondering Dudley's words. The wound on his son's head closed up nicely, and Snape pulled out a blood-replenishing potion. Tipping the boy's head back, he carefully poured the potion into his mouth, massaging the boy's throat so it was swallowed without any problems. A thought popped into Snape's head:

"And your mother?" he asked, feeling slightly sick. "Did your mother stand for this, or did she just turn a blind eye to her husbands abusive ways?"

"My mum did not really care what my father did up until this summer," Dudley said honestly. "This summer, though… I overheard her talking to my dad loads of times. Telling him to be more careful around Harry. Her excuse was that _your_ kind might be watching, but I don't think that was the real reason. But I saw her when she thought I wasn't around, talking to Harry, and being kinda civil towards him. Harry has been downright confused about it all. He even asked me about it today. I think my mum has a soft spot for Harry now. I think she is finally realizing that breaking ties with her sister was a horrible decision."

"And how do you know about Lily?"

"I don't really know a whole lot about my aunt," Dudley said. "When we were younger, Harry would ask questions about his parents, but mum wouldn't say anything about them. I didn't really understand, but Harry explained a bit of it to me today. I think my mum was more jealous of Aunt Lily than anything else."

Another thought came to Snape: "Where is Petunia right now?" The last thing he needed was for his sister in law to shriek unexpectedly at the sight of her precious husband heaped in a corner. Despite Dudley's words, Snape was still skeptical at Petunia's sudden change of heart.

"I think my mum was out with a friend tonight," Dudley glanced over at the clock over the mantle. "She said she would be back over half an hour ago. I don't know what is keeping her.

Deciding that a confrontation with Petunia Dursley would only speed up the impending headache, Snape made to scoop his son up into his arms. Of course, Fate had other plans, because the front door swung open and shut at that exact moment. A shrill voice exploded into the room:

"What happened?" she cried, stumbling into the room. Snape turned around to find her staring at her husband. She looked up at Dudley who was standing there nonchalantly as if having his uncle stunned in the corner was an everyday occurrence. Petunia's eyes finally reached Snape and the child in his arms and they widened even further.

"You!" she said, backing up. "I – Severus?"

"You know him?" came the shocked voice of Dudley.

Silence and tension filled the room. _Well, _this_ was unexpected._ Snape thought wryly. _  
_

"I'm surprised you remember me after all these years, Petunia. You only saw me once." he said aloud, cocking a single eyebrow.

"Yes - at Li- At _her_ wedding." Petunia said as if it were the most obvious fact in the world. "I never forget a face I have seen before, and I certainly remember yours. I recognized it immediately. I don't know why she divorced you, but she must have had good reason to. But that is beside the point. What are you doing in _my_ house with _my_ nephew?"

"Why don't you ask your tub of a husband?" Snape returned in his most snarky voice. "Ask him why I came to retrieve the boy only to find your husband striking the child and attempting to kill him with a fire poker." At the shocked look on the woman's face, Snape decided he had had enough with her. He scooped up his son into his arms and turned to look back at Petunia and Dudley.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I will be taking my_ son_ and he will never return here as long as I have any say in the matter."

"Your – your _son_?" Petunia squeaked. It would have been most amusing to Snape had his son not been unconscious in his arms.

"Yes, Petunia. _My son._" Snape said quite protectively. "I most certainly did not divorce your sister. It was too dangerous for us to be together anymore, so we each went our separate ways, promising to reunite when the Dark Lord fell. She found out she was pregnant shortly after, but due to circumstances," Snape paused, gathering his emotions, "I did not find out about our son until recently. She married James Potter as a cover up."

"But… how… his _father_?" Petunia stuttered.

"I do not have to explain myself to _you_, Petunia." He said with a sneer. "You should be leaping with joy at what I am saying. You do not have to worry about my son any longer. God forbid he should burden your doorstep any longer. You can go back to your happy, _normal_ life without magic."

"But… his _father_…" Petunia said again.

"ENOUGH!" Snape said dangerously. "You had your chance, and you failed miserably. Your own son could see that. This child deserves nothing less than a loving, caring family, and you could not even provide that. He will be given the opportunity to decide whether he wishes to remain under my care or return here." He sneered again. "Somehow I doubt he would ever want to live here again after what just took place. Although I have my reservations of caring for the boy, even I think I would be a more suitable guardian for him.

I would suggest you think very carefully about your nephew. If it were up to me, I would want revenge for my son growing up in such an abysmal home. I will be returning for his belongings, so I advise you to leave them alone. Oh, and do not worry about your husband. He will wake up eventually. Good day."

Snape carefully pulled out the muggle pen without dropping his son so he could reactivate the portkey. "Home," he said clearly. He felt a jerk behind his naval and gripped his son close to his chest as they disappeared in a whirlwind of color. They were finally going home.

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Albus Dumbledore was still sitting at his desk as he glanced up at the grandfather clock for the third time since his potions master had disappeared to Privet Drive. Dumbledore had gathered up the five death eaters and bound them together. After placing them in yet another secret room in his office, he settled back into his chair, his thoughts turning to a certain father and son duo.

It had been almost half an hour, and Dumbledore had to admit he was beginning to wonder what was taking them so long. He knew enough about Harry's life away from Hogwarts to know that there would be no tearful or long-winded good byes. It should be a quick packing up of Harry's things and portkey trip back to Hogwarts.

Another five minutes went by, and Dumbledore stood up. He was just preparing to create another portkey that would take him to Privet Drive when two people appeared in the center of his office. Dumbledore was startled to see the man who he had come to see as a son clutching Harry in his arms.

"Severus, what on earth – " Dumbledore began, but Snape's panicked voice stopped him in his tracks:

"Albus, I need to get him to the hospital wing! Is Poppy there?"

"Yes, I believe she is organizing the last batch of potions you gave her. What happened when you went to get him from his relatives?"

"I'll explain later," Snape replied forcefully. "Right now, he needs someone to look him over. I'm not sure if anything is wrong internally, but I would rather know for sure than find out later when he is dying from internal bleeding." Making sure he had a firm grip on his son, Snape swept out of Dumbledore's office and down the stairs.

Dumbledore chuckled quietly to himself despite the severity of the situation. _Snape could have simply levitated Harry. There was no need to carry him. His parental instincts certainly kicked in rather swiftly. _Popping a lemon drop into his mouth, Dumbledore hummed his own slightly mournful tune to "Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts," slowly following his potions master to the hospital wing, although he would be taking a slight detour to visit Minerva McGonagall. Whatever had transpired at the Dursley residence had clearly upset Snape. Dumbledore only hoped that Harry's injuries were not so severe that they caused permanent physical or psychological damage.

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Madame Poppy Pomfrey, ruler of the hospital wing and stubborn-as-hell witch, was currently in her domain organizing the most recent batch of potions that Snape had made for her. As usual, he did not label them, leaving it up to the school nurse to figure out which potion was which. She really did not mind. It had become somewhat of a secret game between the two unlikely friends: Snape would make the potions and Madame Pomfrey would determine what the potion was. There was of course, the simple spell one could use to determine what the potion was, but that was far too easy. This way, Madame Pomfrey was not bored to tears throughout the summer with no children to oversee. She would come in once a week to receive the newest batch of potions, spend one or two days organizing them, and then return home to her three pet kneazles. She was almost finished with her task when she heard shouting from the hall:

"Poppy!"

"Hmm… that's funny," she muttered to herself. "That sounds like Severus…"

"POPPY!"

Yep.

There was no mistaking the desperate shout this time. It was indeed Severus Snape who burst into the hospital wing. What Madame Pomfrey was not expecting, however, was the person held securely in his arms. With all the times the boy had been under her watchful eye…

"Severus, what on earth – "

"No time to explain, Poppy," Snape said shortly, feeling a sense of déjà vu coming on. _Didn't I just have this conversation with Albus?_ He placed his son on the nearest bed. "The boy needs medical attention. I think he might have a few cracked ribs, and I want to make sure that nothing is wrong on the inside. I healed his head as best as I could and gave him a blood-replenishing potion, but that was the most I could do with what I had on me."

"No need to explain any further," said Poppy, transforming into super-overly-protective-school nurse mode. She was already bustling about, grabbing the necessary potions. "I will take over from here. You go on and get some rest; you look ready to drop into sleep any moment. You have done everything you can for the boy. Let me do the rest."

"Poppy I don't think you understand. That boy is my son, and – " Snape began in one of his 'do-not-mess-with-me' tones.

"Severus," Poppy said, equally serious, staring back into those dangerous black eyes. Her expression softened at the look of helplessness on her colleagues face. She had never seen the potions master so lost before. _He must not realize what he looks like, or I would be obliviated in a heartbeat. _"I know."

Snape's eyes widened momentarily, betraying his surprise. "How?" he asked simply, his face a careful mask of indifference. There was no trace of the helplessness anymore.

"Severus, with all the times the boy has been in the hospital wing, don't you think I would have noticed something off about him?" At Snape's silence, she continued. "I have known since his first year. When Quirrell attempted to steal the stone. I was running diagnostic tests on him, to see if any spells were placed on him. Well, obviously I found multiple appearance altering charms. Strong ones too. They were undeniably Lily's work. I have never seen anything like them in all my days as a healer. However, I confronted Albus about them, and he felt it wise to explain the situation to me. He knew the day would come when you would find out, and he trusted me to keep it secret. I have never once betrayed that confidence."

"Very well," Snape sighed, looking down at his son. "I will leave him under your care. But I will be staying with him, at least, until I know he is sleeping peacefully. I would rather not be here when he wakes up. I doubt he would pleased to see me. He does not have very fond memories of me."

"He does not _know_ you, Severus," Poppy said gently, bringing her potions to Harry's bedside table. "If he could see what Albus, myself, and even – on some occasions – Minerva can see, you might be surprised to find him warming up to you." Severus snorted, very out of character, and Poppy raised an eyebrow. "Well, fine then. Don't believe me. Just you wait, Severus. Someday you will wake up and find that this child has wormed his way right into your heart, and then I will be able to say 'I told you so.'"

"Somehow, I sincerely doubt that," Snape sneered at the matron. His heart, however, was clearly not in it, although Poppy would never tell _him_ that. He knew more curses than all the seventh year students combined. She did not want to be on the receiving end of one, thank you very much.

Instead of trying to argue what she knew would be a pointless argument, she waved her wand over her charges torso. She needed to know exactly what kind of damage the boy had suffered at the hands of his relatives. Even if no one had told her that Harry's life during the summer was less than pleasant, she had seen enough abused students pass through the school to spot the signs. Every June the Boy-who-lived would leave Hogwarts, not always happy, but certainly fairly healthy. Every September, however, he would return, clearly undernourished and unusually quiet at the feast. The boy might not have been physically abused (until now, that is), but he was obviously neglected, and that alone could do quite a bit of damage to a child.

The results showed two cracked ribs, a few bruised ones, a hairline fracture in his right arm, and blood loss focused in his head. She lifted Harry's shirt to find a rather large and nasty bruise on his right side and smaller ones decorating his entire torso. Muttering about stupid, abusive relatives, she set off healing the smaller bruises. That larger one would need a salve as it bruised directly to the bones. Next, she healed the ribs, although Harry would need to stay in bed for a few days to ensure that no further damage would happen. She might be able to heal them, but they would be tender. She turned her focus to his right arm, healing it in a jiffy. Finally, she grabbed a blood-replenishing potion. Although she knew that Snape had already given him one before bringing him to the hospital wing, the boy needed another dose. He had lost a lot of blood. Tipping the boy's head back, she carefully poured it in, using the same massaging technique Snape had used on his neck to make sure that there were no issues with him swallowing it. She did not need the child dying because he choked to death on a healing potion.

She ran to her office and grabbed a bruise balm, bringing it over so she could address his bruised side. Lifting up his shirt, she carefully rubbed some of the balm onto his side. It would certainly be tender over the next week, but it would heal. She also smeared some of the healing salve onto his head where the gash had been. His head was probably bruised as well. Putting the empty vials away, Poppy returned to find Snape sitting next to his son, gazing intently at him. Pretending as if she had not noticed him, she returned to her office without a sound, a soft smile gracing her face at the thought of two people finally having what they most desired: a family.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Albus Dumbledore entered the hospital wing twenty minutes later to find a most endearing sight. The man he had come to view as his son was asleep in a chair, holding the hand of his own child. _If there were ever two people who deserve the happiness that comes with finding a true family, it is Severus and Harry. Merlin knows how much they long for someone to love them for who they are. I only hope they will find some peace amidst this terrible war._

He quietly walked past father and son, and into Madame Pomfrey's office where she was labeling potions. She looked up when the headmaster entered and nodded her head towards an empty chair in a silent request for him to sit down. Both of them sat in silence for a few moments before Dumbledore broke it:

"I see young Harry is looking much better than before. Your healing capabilities are quite marvelous, Poppy. How long will he be asleep for?"

"He should wake in the morning. I imagine that a good night's rest will do him wonders. I do not think he sleeps well after all that he has been through." She paused. "Severus has undergone quite the transformation today. Not nearly his usual snarky self. I take it you returned his memories? He at least knows that Harry is his child."

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "Yes, I did finally return what belongs to him. I think much of his old self came back when his memories did. He has certainly shown some parental attitudes towards his son. I don't believe he recognizes it, though. It will be interesting to watch the relationship between the two grow over time."

"I'm just happy I do not have to lie to either of them anymore," Poppy said emphatically. "I'm sure that I will be seeing both of them in here quite a bit over this next school year. Not many will be pleased to find out that the Boy-Who-Lived is actually the son of ex-Death Eater Severus Snape." She chuckled. "I can not wait to see everyone's faces."

"I do not think you will have that joyous opportunity for quite some time, if I have any say in it," Dumbledore said, chuckling as well. "I think the best thing for them will be to keep Harry's new identity under wraps for the time being. If Voldemort were to find out, both of them would be in even more danger than before."

"So, Harry will have to go about his life pretending that nothing has happened? Are you even going to tell him?"

"Who said anything about Harry pretending nothing has happened? I plan on giving Harry that choice. If he wishes to allow Severus to claim guardianship, then I see no reason for him to pretend at all."

"What do you mean?" Poppy asked, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"I will let you know should the time come," Dumbledore said in his usual obnoxious, mysterious manner. The way of speaking that makes you want to bash your face into a wall and yell for him to give you a straight answer, instead of his secretive response.

Poppy was definitely feeling the need for face bashing, although she would not let Dumbledore know her frustrations. He would tell her… eventually.

Dumbledore, on the other hand, knew exactly what the nurse was contemplating in her mind. He stood up, chuckling quietly to himself, and swept from the room. As he walked across the ward, he heard a dull thumping noise coming from behind him, and had to exercise great control to keep himself from laughing any louder and risk waking the two sleeping beauties in the hospital wing.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Sunlight slowly drifted in as the sun rose over the mountains surrounding the castle. When the sun was high enough to shine light into the hospital wing, it revealed two figures; one who was sleeping peacefully, the other who was just beginning to wake up. Severus Snape's eyes snapped open when the sun hit his eyes. It took him a few moments before he realized where he was and, more importantly, whose hand he was still holding. He quickly let go of his son's hand and stood up. He did not want Harry to wake up to _his_ face. His son would probably scream bloody murder, and Snape would not blame him. Despite himself, Snape laughed inside, imagining the boy's face when he realized whose son he truly was. Then he quickly sobered. His son would _hate_ him.

Snape left the ward only to almost run into Dumbledore. _Great. The old man comes just when I do NOT want to put up with him. Perhaps he won't need me._

"Severus," Dumbledore said, a wide smile on his face. "Just the man I was looking for!"

_Damn! _Severus thought, a perfect sneer in place._ I have to have the worst luck in the wizarding world. Spy to the Dark Lord, teacher to stupid dunderheads, and always running into Albus when he is the last person I want to deal with. What next?_

"Why don't we visit your son?" the headmaster asked, that infernal twinkle in his eye.

_You just had to ask, didn't you, Severus?_ Putting more emotion behind his sneer, he carefully asked: "Where do you think I have been all night? He is still asleep, and I doubt even he can hear us in such a deep sleep. Now, if you will excuse me, I have very important potions to brew."

"Please do not attempt to pull such a weak excuse on me, Severus," Dumbledore said. "Although many consider me to be quite senile, I know that you know differently. If Harry is truly in such a deep sleep, then you should have nothing to fear in coming with me."

"Albus, I am not afraid – " Snape began in an offended tone.

"Splendid!" Dumbledore exclaimed, spreading his arms wide, and wrapping one around the reluctant professor's shoulders. "Let us delay no further, then." Dumbledore pushed Snape through the hospital wing door just as Madame Pomfrey bustled over to Harry. He was awake, and looking very confused.

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Harry slowly opened his eyes only to shut them quickly. _It is so bright in the hospital wing!_ He snapped them open again. _Hospital wing? What on earth am I doing at Hogwarts?_ Harry reached for his glasses that he knew would be on the bedside table. He was in the ward often enough to know how the process went. Shoving them on, he took in his surroundings. A noise to his left grabbed his attention and he turned his head to see Madame Pomfrey heading towards his bed, holding a potion. _Great. Disgusting potions. What a way to wake up in the morning._

He heard the door open on his right. Confused, he looked up and found black eyes staring into his. _Snape? What is he doing here? _A voice startled him out of his thoughts.

"Harry," Dumbledore said happily. "You are awake, good."

"Headmaster?" Harry asked. He had not even noticed who else had come in with Snape. "What is going on? What am I doing here? Why aren't I at Privet Drive? I thought I needed to stay there for the blood wards?" Dumbledore put up his hand to halt the inquisition.

"Please be patient, Harry, and everything will be explained," Dumbledore looked over to Madame Pomfrey who had shoved a potion into Harry's hand. "Ah, a pain reliever potion. Excellent. Drink up Harry. I am sure you need it after last night."

_Last night?_ Harry thought to himself. He lifted the vial to his mouth, his mind working hard to figure out what Dumbledore was talking about. He was just swallowing the last of the potion when all the memories of the previous night came flooding back to him. His eyes widened and he almost spit the potion back out in surprise. His face reddened with embarrassment. _Snape _rescued _me? From the Dursleys? He will never let me live this down. The whole school will know by the end of the welcome feast. I will never hear the end of it from Malfoy. Imagine: the Boy-who-lived can't even stand up and defend himself against his muggle uncle. _

"Um… sir," Harry began nervously. "Er… Professor Dumbledore, that is… I – "

"Why don't we go up to my office? Hmm?" Dumbledore interrupted Harry. "We have many things to discuss immediately. That is," he paused, looking over to Poppy, "if our young charge is stable enough to leave this wing for a few hours?"

Madame Pomfrey gave Dumbledore a long, hard look. "He will be fine for a _few_ hours," she said, her eyes narrowing. "However, if you do anything, and I mean _anything_ to place undue stress on my patient, you will be extremely sorry. As soon as your little _discussion_ is over, it is back here for Mr. Potter and bed rest until I say he is ready to leave."

Dumbledore inclined his head in acquiescence. "Of course, Poppy. I would never even dream of causing undue stress on one of your patients. Especially Harry here," he gestured for Harry to follow him, but Harry paused, his cheeks reddening again. "What is it, Harry?"

"Um…" Harry paused, unsure of how to ask his question. "I – er – don't have a robe, or anything, and I would rather – er – not leave this ward without one… and – "

"Ah, of course," said Dumbledore, whipping out his wand. He waved it over some bed sheets that were sitting atop a nearby bed and with a small pop they became an ordinary black robe. Dumbledore passed the robe to Harry, who slipped it on quickly before getting out of bed.

"Thanks," he said, smiling in appreciation. He wobbled, a bit unsteady on his feet, and surprisingly, it was Snape who steadied him. "Thanks," he mumbled again, unsure of this new sort-of-nice Snape he was dealing with. _What is up with him? Where are the glares and the sneers? The biting remarks towards my dead father and his companions? I am _so_ confused right now."_

Snape quickly let go when Harry began following the headmaster out of the ward. He glanced back to see Poppy looking at him with an understanding smile on her face. Realizing his son and the headmaster had already left he followed them. _Even if I am scared, I know I need to be there when he finds out. I only hope he takes it well. His whole life will be ripped apart in his eyes. I guess all I can do is wait for him. And what is Albus scheming about?_

Snape caught up to the two men rather fast, as Harry was walking slower than normal. He kept his distance, and the three did not say anything out loud until they reached the headmaster's office.

"Ton-tongue toffees," Dumbledore said, and Harry's eyes widened once again. Chuckling at Harry's frozen stance, Dumbledore said pleasantly, "I have my ways, my boy. After you." Harry gave the older man a calculating look before climbing onto the spiral staircase.

Snape had no idea what those blasted 'ton-tongue toffees' were, but he was sure he did not want to find out. It sounded suspiciously like a Weasley product, and he had put up with enough of their antics to know he should not approach any of their creations with a ten-foot broomstick. _Well, I do have to admit that they are rather brilliant creators,_ he thought grudgingly, even if he would never admit it out loud._ If they would only put their brains to their schoolwork, they would have top grades. At least I never have to worry about their performance in my class. They certainly have experimented outside of class to understand the intricacies of the art._

They entered the circular office, and Dumbledore motioned his hand for them to sit down. It was then that Harry noticed Snape was also in the room. He avoided eye contact at all cost. Apparently, his fingernails were extremely fascinating at that moment, along with his robe. Why_ did he have to see me like that? Of all the people it could have been, Dumbledore sent _him_? I don't care if he is a spy. He is going to use this against me. _Dumbledore spoke, causing Harry to look up:

"Now, Harry. Professor Snape and I have something very serious to discuss with you concerning your guardianship."

"Professor Snape?" Harry asked carefully. "Sir, may I ask why he needs to be here? If this about last night, I – "

"All in good time, my dear boy," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "You have the option, of course, of staying with your aunt and uncle. That is the safest place for against Voldemort and his followers. However, as we discovered last night," Harry blushed once again, "while the wards may protect you from death eaters, it did not keep your uncle from physically harming you. It also does not extend to the surrounding areas. I received your delivery last night, and they will be taken care of."

"Wait, professor," Harry said, confused. "If my aunt and uncle's house is the safest place for me, then why would you give me the option of moving. Who else could be my guardian? I don't know of any other blood relatives I could stay with."

"And that, is where Professor Snape comes in, but first," he held up a hand when Harry's mouth opened in shock. "I believe there are a few memories you need to see, and all will become clear." The pensieve was still sitting on the headmaster's desk from the previous night, the memories still swirling about. The light from the silver liquid was reflecting off of all the trinkets Dumbledore had littered throughout his office. It was as very good excuse for a distraction as Harry stared anywhere but at Snape. "I believe you remember how to enter a pensieve?" Harry nodded. "Once again, after you, my boy."

Harry stood for a few moments, looking rather nervous. _What memories could tell me why Snape, a man who hates me, should be my guardian? Had Dumbledore seriously gone insane?_ Snape had been quiet the entire discussion, a mask of indifference carefully in place. Despite Harry's hesitation, he touched his hand to the shifting silvery liquid and was immediately pulled into the basin.

"Shall we, Severus?" Dumbledore asked quietly. Snape nodded curtly and also touched his hand to the contents of the pensieve, and disappeared. Dumbledore looked at Fawkes and sighed. "Well, my faithful companion, wish us luck. Goodness knows there will be a very interesting and entertaining discussion upon our return." He too put his hand to the liquid and was sucked in to the memories of one Severus Snape.

A/N: I will leave off here. I tried to include the section where Harry finds out, but I thought you would appreciate an update sooner rather than later. As you can see (well, read actually) I am keeping in most of Snape's background we find out in _Deathly Hallows_. I might tweak the prophecy a bit to fit my story, but I will probably keep that in as well. Horcruxes will also probably be part of the plot, although I am still debating on that one. All of our favorite characters that we both love and hate from _Order of the Phoenix_ will also be making appearances in one shape or form.

It is very early in the morning for me and I have a 5 am flight to catch! You know the drill. Please press the pretty purple button in the corner and give me some feedback. I will try to update within the next two weeks. The part everyone is waiting for is in the chapter to come!


	7. Chapter 7

So I know that it's been… um… yeah, two years as one of my reviewers so calmly told me. I don't really have an excuse, but I thank you all for reading this chapter. I know the major plot points that I want to have, but I'm having a little trouble getting there.

On with the story!

_Previously:_

"_Shall we, Severus?" Dumbledore asked quietly. Snape nodded curtly and also touched his hand to the contents of the pensieve, and disappeared. Dumbledore looked at Fawkes and sighed. "Well, my faithful companion, wish us luck. Goodness knows there will be a very interesting and entertaining discussion upon our return." He too put his hand to the liquid and was sucked in to the memories of one Severus Snape. _

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Chapter Seven: In which Father and Son truly meet

_Harry found himself standing out by the lake under a tree that he and Ron and Hermione would sometimes have talks under_. What am I doing here? Was the pensieve a portkey or something? No, that's impossible. I'm in a memory. But where is everyone?_ Snape appeared right behind him, along with Dumbledore a few seconds later. They were both looking behind Harry. _

"_Come on, quickly, Severus!" The cry caused Harry to whip his head around to see what looked like a much younger Snape being dragged along by a young woman with fiery red hair and oddly familiar green eyes. Harry felt his stomach drop a little. _Is that… mum? _Lily dropped Snape to the ground by a tree and stood in front of him, hands on her hips. Snape was actually smiling. _

"_Now, Severus__, you tell me what has been bothering you! You have been distant since school started over a month ago. Out with it now!"_

_Young Snape lost his grin and tugged his arm out of her grasp. "I- I can't tell you!"_

"_Yes you can, and you must! You can't keep it bottled up inside. Now please, tell me." Lily paused. "Is it about your mother?" Harry looked bewildered._ What is going on here?

"_NO! No, it's… fine. I'll tell you. But you cannot tell anyone. Do you understand? I would get kicked out of school if anyone found out."_

"_Oh, Severus, you are always being so dramatic about –" she stopped at the sight of his left forearm. "Oh, Sev, what have you done?" she started backing away a look of horror on her face._

The Dark Mark!_ Harry thought, a sick feeling building up. He had guessed that Snape was a spy for Voldemort after the scene in the hospital wing in June. _But why did Snape ever join Voldemort in the first place? Am I going to find out now?

"_I didn't want it!" the younger Snape cried out, standing up. _What?_ Harry thought, very confused. He listened as the younger Snape explained his story and Harry felt a weird sensation. _Do I… feel sorry for him? I actually believe him. But how does this have anything to do with my mum?

"_I don't know what to do Lily!" Young Snape looked wildly at Lily who pulled him into a tight embrace._

"_Oh, Sev," she murmured quietly into his ear. "We can fix this. It won't be easy but we will. You have to go to Dumbledore. He is the only one who can help you. I'm powerless."_

_Young Snape shoved her away. "You don't understand Lily! Do you know what the Dark Lord does to traitors and deserters? He kills them as slowly and painfully as possible." Harry winced. He knew exactly how cruel Voldemort could be. "Then right before they die, he finds everyone they care about and kills them in front of the traitor! I can't let that happen to my mother… to you! If he were ever to find out about our relationship, he would stop at nothing to find you! I won't let that happen!"_

_Harry's ears buzzed. _My mum… and _Snape_?_ Harry looked over at his professor who was watching the scene in front of him with a strange look on his face. Harry could not place it. It was so different from the looks of scorn or hate that usually masked his worn features. _

"_All right," Young Snape muttered. Harry shook himself of his reveries to watch the memory. "Let us go see Dumbledore."_

_The two disappeared from view and Harry turned to Dumbledore. _

"_Professor, I'm confused. You want me to stay with him because he dated my mum?" He looked at Snape, but Dumbledore shook his head. _

"_This is not the only memory you must see. There are still a few more, and then all will be made clear, I think._

"_I do not believe he needs to view the memory of Cissy," Snape spoke for the first time since entering the pensieve. _

"_Very well, Severus," Dumbledore inclined his head. "But I trust that you will discuss it with him later? After all, it is a rather important aspect. Perhaps it can even alter the course of her son's future."_

"_Of that, I cannot say," Snape said quietly. "But, of course I will tell him, in time." The memory faded away and another one took its place._

I am standing right here, you know._ Harry thought grudgingly. _Not that it matters or anything. What are we doing in a church?_ Harry had never been in one, but that did not mean he could not recognize one when he saw it. He had seen pictures before. Harry almost fell over when he saw a man who could only be his father, and a younger Snape standing, talking to each other like old friends. They were both dressed up._ Now I am _really_ confused. I thought Sirius and Lupin said my father and Snape hated each other? I thought Dumbledore said that. What the hell is going on here? _He heard his father speak and turned to listen. _I look just like him.

"_Will you calm down? You are acting so jittery, it's unnerving. You're always calm and collected. It's your wedding days for goodness sakes!" Harry whipped his head around to look at his professors. Snape's eyes were carefully focused on the scene playing out in front of them. _What? Snape. _Married?_ I repeat: what the _hell_ is going on here? Who would fall in love with Snape enough to marry him? No one in their right mind would date him!_ Harry stopped. _No, that's not right. _Mum_ dated him. _He heard his father speak again. _

"_Severus," James said quietly, but firmly. "Lily loves you more than life itself. She would do anything for you. She is going to enter this room, take your hand, and become your wife. Try not to mess it up." This time, Harry did gasp out loud: _

"_What!" he looked at Dumbledore who simply smiled and said nothing. "Professor, is this some kind of joke? She married my dad," he said this slowly as if it would get the message across more clearly. Dumbledore chuckled._

"_You are quite right, Harry. Indeed, she did marry your father. Now, I believe we should continue to observe." The younger Snape was half shouting at the younger Dumbledore:_

"_Albus, this is not doing anything for me! Stop making me more nervous than I already am or I swear that I'll –" Young Snape paused, trying to come up with a threat that would instill fear into his former headmaster._

"_What will you do Severus? I am not sure that there is anything you can threaten me with that will strike fear into my heart." Dumbledore chuckled and popped a lemon drop into his mouth for good measure._

"_I'll convince the Dark Lord to blow up every single lemon drop producing factory in Europe." Young Snape said menacingly._

Wow. I never thought of _that_ threat. I'll have to remember that one for later. _Harry thought to himself. He still did not understand what was going on. _Maybe my mum and Snape got a divorce or something. How did she end up with my dad?

_The chapel door opened and Harry saw Lily walking down the isle; a woman he recognized in an instant was holding her hand._ Aunt Petunia?_ He thought incredulously. _Now I know this is some kind of joke.

_He watched the wedding unfold, a feeling of confusion becoming stronger each minute. _Wow. They really look like they love each other. _He shook his head. _This is ridiculous. Snape. Loving something besides his precious potions. What am I thinking? _The memory faded from sight and Dumbledore's office materialized around them, a younger Dumbledore sitting behind the desk._ There's more?

"_Indeed." Dumbledore said. Harry did not realize he had spoken his last question out loud. "This is one of the more crucial memories of Professor Snape, so please pay close attention, Harry."_

_Harry nodded and turned to watch the scene in silence until the younger Dumbledore said something that made him gasp out loud again:_

"_I believe that our only choice is to… remove any happy memory of Lily from your mind."_

_Harry watched as Snape said good-bye to Lily and kiss her one final time. _Strange,_ he thought._ If she loved him so much, then why did she have me with my dad?

"Obliviate!_" the word made Harry cringe as Dumbledore removed all memory of Lily from the potions master's mind. He looked over again to where his snarky professor was standing and was shocked to find pain evident the older man's face._ I really shouldn't be though. I think he really loved my mum.

_This memory faded, and another replaced it. They were still in Dumbledore's office. The younger Dumbledore looked exactly the same. _

"_Sir," Harry asked quietly. "How much time has passed? Everything looks the same."_

"_You're correct, my boy," Dumbledore said. "This memory takes place two weeks after the previous one. This is the most important memory of all. You will understand why in a few minutes. Then I will explain anything that is still unclear to you."_

"_Come in!" the younger Dumbledore called in response to a knock on the door._

_Lily Evans came running through the door. "Albus," she cried. "I need your help!"_

"_My dear! Please sit down. I will get you a cup of tea. Twinkle!" he called. A small female house elf appeared. "Can you please bring up a cup of your strongest tea for this young lady? It would be very appreciated." Harry barely noticed as a house elf brought tea. _Why is my mum here?

_Dumbledore poured them both tea. "Now, my dear, will you please tell me what has you so troubled? I know it is difficult without Severus, but you must be strong for him. What is wrong?"_

"_Oh, Albus," she whispered. "Something wonderful and terrible has happened. I was feeling ill this morning, so I visited St. Mungo's to see what was wrong. The healer told me –" she swallowed a gulp of tea before plunging onwards. "She told me that I'm pregnant. I'm two weeks along." Harry couldn't speak. He barely noticed as Lily kept on talking, his brain was running on full speed. Two weeks before, Snape had had his memories removed._ It couldn't be…

"_I think we should enlist the help of your old friend, James Potter." Dumbeldore's voice cut through Harry's thoughts._

"_But how could he help? We 'broke up' just before finishing Hogwarts! I don't see how he could be of use, unless –" understanding flooded her face. "You mean for me to set up a false marriage between James and I?" _

No._ Harry knew where this was going._ I can't be… that's impossible! "_Professor Dumbledore…" he whispered, but Dumbledore merely shook his head silently and made a motion to keep listening. However, Harry was too occupied to hear much of the rest of the memory._

"_Yes, my dear. I do not think that it would be too far-fetched," the younger Dumbledore was saying. "Because of Voldemort, you hardly see any of your old acquaintances, and James has been far too busy with the Aurors to keep in touch with anyone except for Remus, Sirius, and Peter. Even with those three, it has been a long time since they have seen each other. I think it would be the perfect ruse."_

"_You're right. I think it is my only option right now. Where is James at the moment?"_

"_He is actually in this castle. I will send Fawkes to fetch him." The phoenix disappeared and returned with James, who listened to Lily's plight with a frown on his face. He then agreed to help her however he could._

"_Thank you, James!" Lily cried, throwing herself into his embrace. "I don't know how I will ever be able to repay you."_

"_Think nothing of it. What are friends there for, if not to help when there is need." He gave a small smile. "Come, we have a fake marriage certificate to create, and some stories to make up of how we got married without anyone's knowledge. It will work out in the end, I promise. You will have Severus back when this is all over." He looked up at the headmaster. "Albus, we must be off. Thank you for your help. I'll take it from here."_

"_Goodbye Lily, James. Good luck." The younger Dumbledore said and Lily and James left the office. Harry felt himself being pulled from the memory, still in shock over what he had just learned, what had been hidden from him for so long._

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Harry did not know how he had ended up at the top of the astronomy tower. He did not know how he had sliced his hand open or why his head was throbbing so terribly. To be perfectly honest, he did not really care. All he could think about was how he had been lied to his whole life, and the scene that had taken place in Dumbledore's office after he was free of the pensieve.

_Thirty Minutes Ago:_

"_Harry?" Dumbledore said quietly. Harry had not moved for two minutes after they were pulled from the pensieve. Snape looked worried at his son's silence. "Harry, can you say something, please?" Dumbledore continued._

"_Albus," Snape looked from the headmaster to his son. "I don't know if he was ready to know."_

"_But he had to know. He would have never forgiven me if I had kept this from him. Not when he could have a father."_

"_Will the two of you please stop talking about me like I'm not in the room?" Harry growled, finally looking up. His green eyes were shining brightly with unshed tears that he was struggling to hold back. However, the Dursleys had trained him well and he kept them at bay. "I'm sick of being talked about like I'm five years old or incapable of making my own decisions. Now, will someone please tell me what is going on?" Harry was working extremely hard to control his anger and confusion. _Why is this happening? _Was the only coherent thought in his head at moment._

"_Harry, my boy," Dumbledore started, but Harry interrupted him._

"_Don't call me that. I'm not 'your boy.' Is this some kind of sick joke to make me like him or something?" Harry jerked his thumb towards Snape who was completely silent. He knew that Harry had to let it out otherwise they would get nowhere, but it was still a painful reminder of the hell he had put his son through over the last four years._

"_I'm so sorry. I understand how you must be feeling right now –"_

"_When did you find out that the man you thought was your father actually wasn't?" Harry snapped. "When did you find out that the man who has done nothing but belittle you and tried to have you expelled was actually your father?"_

"_Harry," Dumbledore tried again as Snape flinched involuntarily._

"_Let me guess… never. So how could you understand what I'm feeling right now?" Harry shouted into the headmaster's face. "How in the hell could you have any idea of what is going through my head?" When Dumbledore did not say anything, Harry raged on. "All my life I've been told that I was the son of Lily and James Potter: they were my PARENTS who loved me and gave their LIFE for me. Then you waltz in here after I've been at this school for four years and faced Voldemort three times and tell me that I'm not James Potter's son. How the hell do you think I feel, old man?"_

"_Harry, please believe me," Dumbledore said softly. "It hasn't been easy for me."_

"_It hasn't been easy for you?" Harry sneered at the man. "Really? It wasn't easy for you to have a good laugh at me with Snape, when I've been trying to live up to my parent's name, to my supposed father's name? Do you know how often I've been told that they were the best and brightest of their age? How people have forced me to try and live up to the stupid, ridiculous title thrust on me for something I don't even remember? Something I would give anything just for it to have never happened? How can I believe you when all you have done is lied to me?"_

_Dumbledore was speechless and Snape just stood there, an impassive look on his face. _

"_Is that all you can do?" Harry asked incredulously. "Just stand there silently and pretend like nothing has happened? Where is the sage old man popping lemon drops into his mouth and jabbering on about choices and love? Well you can go find yourself another golden boy, Dumbledore."_

And that was how he had left the office and fled. He just kept running wherever his feet took him, and that was how he came to be at the tower. _I didn't mean to get so angry. I just can't take it that I was lied to for so many years. How long has Snape known? _Harry thought hard, trying to remember what he had learned from the memories. _Probably not much longer than me, otherwise why bring it up now. I shouldn't really be mad at him. But why did it have to be him? He hates me! I'm surprised he even let me find out, unless he just wants to use the information against me somehow. Although, I can't figure out what he could gain. If Voldemort ever found out… _Harry shuddered and jumped onto the ledge of the ramparts. He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not notice a dark figure silently enter the tower.

Despite the fact that it was summer and had been gloriously sunny just ten minutes previously, the wind was still very fast up at the peak of the tower, and rain was coming down hard. It all roared loudly in Harry's ears as he leaned out over the ramparts. He was not planning on throwing himself. That would be stupid. He just wanted to forget about what he learned.

"WHY?" Harry cried over the wind and rain, tears streaming down his face both from the high wind in his eyes and the shock of it all. "Why can't my life be normal for ONCE? What did I ever do to deserve being lied to for so long? Answer me! Someone! Anyone!" The only response was the element's continual raging. "Is it because I'm a FREAK? Was my uncle right? Should I have just died along with my mum and the man I thought was my father? Am I just a waste of life? Should I just hand myself over to Voldemort and stop prolonging my death?" Harry could not even try to hold back his tears anymore.

"I don't want this. I just want someone who cares about me," Harry crumpled to the ground, clutching a railing with all his strength. The rain was slowly letting up. "Not about the Boy-who-lived or any of that shit. I want someone who wants me and loves me for me. Is that too much to ask? Am I destined to be alone for the rest of my life?" He felt so lost and broken, and he hated it. He could not stand the feeling of helplessness that was coursing through him, fighting to consume him, trying to get him to leap off the tower and end it all.

"No," he whispered. "No. NO!" he finally shouted, pounding his fist, but losing his grip on the railing. He barely noticed as strong arms caught him and slowly pulled him in from the wind and rain. He was no longer hitting the ground, but something soft. He was still whispering "No… no…" but he was so tired. He no longer had the strength to fight.

"It's ok," he heard a low, smooth voice say. _Whose voice is that? It sounds so familiar. It's like something from a dream of long ago._ The voice continued: "I have you. I will not hurt you. You do not have to fight anymore. You never have to be alone ever again. Not if I can help it." Warm, comforting arms wrapped around him in an embrace, and he was lifted into the air. Someone was carrying him.

Harry wanted to believe the voice, he really did, but everything was so confusing. Who could he trust anymore? However, he was too tired to say anything, and before he knew what had happened, blackness overtook his vision and he knew no more.

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Snape sat next to his son's bed in the hospital wing. Harry had been unconscious for a while now, and probably would not wake up until the next morning. Poppy had said he was magically exhausted, but Snape had no idea how that was possible. It did not seem as if his son had performed large amounts of magic up on the tower.

However, Snape was mesmerized; he could not help but notice how peaceful his son looked while he was in this state. It was as if Voldemort was non-existent for a few precious hours. How could he have ever thought Harry to be arrogant or cruel like James had been at his age? They were two completely different people. In his heart, Snape knew the answer: he did not look past the face of his childhood enemy and thereby had no sight of the boy's heart. Just like Lily's. The clock in the ward chimed eight times, telling Snape he had been sitting by the bed for most of the day. Feeling eyes watching him, Snape turned around to see Dumbledore standing in the entranceway.

"Hello, Albus," Snape said tiredly. "What do you want? Me to wake up the boy so you can inform him of more secrets that have been kept from him all these years?"

"Severus," Dumbledore half-whispered. "I told him when I thought he was ready. Do you really think he could have kept such a secret at age eleven? It would have slowly killed him," he let out a deep sigh and turned his gaze to Harry. "Since the moment he returned from the graveyard clutching Cedric Diggory in his arms I knew it was time for him to decide for himself. I can no longer have any peace of mind trying to determine what is best for him when he is not truly a child. He has gone through too much alone. He needs you and I intend to give him that choice. Was that really so wrong of me?"

"Did you have to do it when his last waking memory was of his uncle ready to murder him? If you had only waited a few more days he might have taken it easier."

"Unfortunately, time is of the essence," Dumbledore said. "He needed to know because we only have a few short days to fool Voldemort if he chooses to embrace his true identity. We are running out of time. Look at your son; he is already beginning to show changes in his appearance."

Snape turned around and realized that the headmaster was correct. When he was not looking for the changes, they were unnoticeable. However, upon closer inspection, he could see that his son's hair was not nearly as messy as it normally was. Also, his face was not as round, which Snape had attributed to the fact that is son was not fed very well over the summer. He had not even considered that it could be something else. _How did I not notice before? He is beginning to look more and more like Lily._

"He is developing your nose, Severus," Dumbledore said solemnly.

"Excuse me?" Snape looked in horror at his son, before glaring to look at the headmaster who had a carefully saddened face on, save for the twinkle in his eyes that betrayed him. "Albus, that is not amusing in the slightest. You know perfectly well that it was broken in an accident so it can't be passed on genetically."

"Of course, Severus," Dumbledore chuckled. "I wonder why you were so frightened then?"

"Albus!" Severus said. "I would not wish my nose on anyone, least of all my son."

"I would not imply anything of the kind," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling.

"Of course you wouldn't," Snape mumbled under his breath. "You just implied that my nose is naturally this deformed."

"I would not necessarily call it deformed, per say…" Dumbledore trailed off, completely ignoring the glare Snape shot at him, reminding the older man that he was not supposed to comment on the younger man's nose any further. Whether the headmaster had a death wish, or he really had gone senile in his old age, Snape could not tell because the other man continued without even a blink. "I would say it has character," he paused again. "Much character. Do you not remember how many times Poppy and I have offered to fix it? The shape of your nose is not essential to your masquerade."

"Because I appear much more frightening this way."

"In other words," Dumbledore chuckled. "If you fixed your nose, your physical appearance would greatly improve and the ladies might swoon. That would greatly damage your reputation."

"Albus, that is the most ridiculous speculation I have ever heard," Snape said grumpily. "As if any female would find me attractive. That is impossible."

"Of course, my boy, how silly of me," Dumbledore conceded out loud, but in his mind he knew otherwise. _If only you saw the sun more often and took better care of yourself instead of withering away. You would be completely unrecognizable in comparison to the snarky bat of the dungeons. Perhaps the reunion with your son will bring back your forgotten vigor of youth. _"Severus," he said out loud. "He will not wake until tomorrow morning at the earliest, so why don't you get some sleep? It has been a very trying 24 hours."

"Albus, the sun has barely set. It is far too early to go to sleep."

"Nevertheless, we both know that if you do not rest soon, Poppy will come in here and drug you by force. That woman is a fearsome thing to behold when she wants to be frightening. At least lie down on one of the nearby beds. That will distract her for the moment should she come bustling in."

"Oh, very well, Albus," Snape grumbled, climbing into the bed next to his son's. "But only because I would rather not have a vile concoction shoved down my throat at this hour."

"Of course, my boy, of course," Dumbledore grinned. "Now, good night. I will be in my office should you need anything." And with that, he swept from the room. It was not until after the headmaster had left that Snape realized he had completely forgotten to ask about his son's magical exhaustion.

Muttering about interfering old men and crazed healers, Snape closed his eyes; only intending to rest for a few minutes in case Albus came back unannounced or Poppy came in. Not understanding just how exhausted he was, he drifted off to sleep before realizing what had happened.

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Harry was drifting. He was flying without a broom over lands he did not recognize. _Where am I going?_ He thought. He tried changing direction, but found himself on an unchangeable auto-piloted course. _Why can't I control where I'm going? What's happening – _the questions running through his head stopped at once when darkness suddenly descended and he was floating towards what looked like a small graveyard. A green light burst through the night and Harry knew where he was.

_Cedric! Oh no, oh no. Please, not that night. Anything but that night. _As usual, his dream did not respond to his wishes. Instead, the events of the night of the Third Task seemed to be on fast-forward. Multiple Death Eaters appeared and Harry saw himself dueling with Voldemort. When the wands reacted to each other, Harry watched half in horror, half in fascination as the dead reappeared from Voldemort's wand once more. The dream began slowing down and returning to real time. He saw his mother emerge, followed by the man he had always thought to be his father. They were speaking, but he could not hear what they were saying.

He saw himself break the connection and run, but something odd was happening. Instead of cloistering around Voldemort with the other shadows, his mother and James spurred after his younger self, and when his hand touched the portkey they all disappeared together.

Harry had expected them to be transported back to the Quidditch field at Hogwarts, but instead he found himself by the lake, and there were only two other beings there. _Where are my younger self and Cedric? _He thought, completely bewildered. _What's going on? Am I mad? Is this even a dream anymore?_

"You are not mad, my dear child, nor is this a dream."

Harry jumped as his mother addressed him. Her and James were standing in front of him, side by side, and they were smiling widely at him. However, instead of the shadows they were only moments before, Harry thought that they looked very much alive.

"Really? So sooner or later everyone who has had a parent die suddenly speaks to them while they are asleep? I've never heard of something like this happening before."

"Well, it is not often that someone is magically exhausted to the extent that you are right now," At Harry's blank look, Lily went on patiently. "On the Astronomy Tower? You had another outburst of magic, just like you did when the Death Eaters attacked you and your cousin in Little Whinging. Only this time you feinted from exhaustion."

"But I didn't do anything on the Tower," Harry said, clearly annoyed. "All I did was yell and then someone picked me up…" he trailed off. _Who carried me? I don't remember. _James on the other hand, was chuckling.

"Only you would call raising up a storm "not doing anything."

"_I _did that?" Harry stammered. "But – but how? I don't know how to wield that kind of magic. I've never done something like that before. What's happening to me? Why does everything happen to me? I really am a freak."

"You are not a freak!" Lily said sternly. "You are my son, and I am so proud of you." Harry was silent. He was not sure what to believe anymore. "What you did up on the astronomy tower will probably never happen again. Your emotions were rampaging at such a high level that your magic reached out and let loose on the closest thing that would take it: nature. The power outbursts you have been experiencing mean that the barriers surrounding your magic reservoirs are beginning to break down."

"I don't understand," Harry said, confused. "What barriers? Who wanted to seal off my magic?"

"It's perfectly normal," Lily laughed lightly. "No one knows why, but any child possessing the ability to perform magic naturally seals off a portion of the magic they are able to access. It's an instinctive defense, because anyone who tries to use more magic than their body can handle will burn out, literally. A child's body is not nearly powerful enough to contain the amount of magic they can at 17, for example."

"So, accidental magic…" Harry said slowly. "That's – "

"That is your body testing how much magic it can handle," this time, James spoke. "Also a direct result of strong emotional states. The younger a child performs accidental magic, the more powerful they can potentially be. Most children show signs of magic around the age of 2, but it normally consists of summoning a toy or making an object float. Towards the end of a child's 15th year, those barriers begin to break down."

"It's why you take your OWL's at the end of fifth year. The first year of NEWT classes helps you learn how to channel that new magical energy. It allows the witch or wizard to grow accustomed to the magic, and by age 17, the barriers are completely gone. You happen to have a bit of extra magic because of the powers Voldemort transferred to you the night he attacked us. Your ability to speak Parseltounge is one of the manifestations of that power transfer. It means that while you will pass the other students in raw power, you will also have to work much harder to control it.

"I'm sorry, son," she continued as Harry gave her a blank look. "I do not have time to explain it all to you, and much of it is not known to me. It is almost time for you to go. Severus is waiting for you."

"You mean Snape?" Harry asked, frowning. "Wonderful. I have a greasy git for a father. I might as well be related to Malfoy. How did you ever fall in love with him?"

"Dante Alexander Snape!" She said furiously without raising her voice. "How dare you speak about your father in that way? You haven't even given him a chance. I know what the past is like between you, but you must understand that he is just as scared as you are, and only found out about you the night he came to rescue you from the Dursleys. He has had 16 very lonely years without anyone who cared about him, save for Albus and Minerva." She sighed, placing her hands on her son's shoulders. "I loved your father very much. He is a good man, despite the mask he puts on for the world. You are his chance to live life fully again. Please at least try to get to know him before you pass judgment. He wants a son just as much as you want a father." She froze for a moment then looked back at her son, a sad look gracing her beautiful features. "It is time."

"What?" Harry asked, griping his mother's hands in his own. "You can't leave me, we haven't even had a chance to sort things out! And what did you just call me?"

"Dante Alexander Snape," she smiled. "It is the name on your real birth certificate that Dumbledore has in his keeping. Ask him for it." She began to back away.

"No! Don't leave me alone!" Harry cried lurching forward to grip her in a warm embrace. Lily wrapped her arms around her son, the first hug Harry could ever remember receiving from his mother. She pulled away and gave her son a soft smile.

"I must leave now, my son, and you are never alone," she whispered. Green eyes met green. "But I want you to know how proud I am of you. You have grown up into such a wonderful person despite everything thrown at you. James and I have been watching you, and we will continue to do so. I love you so very much and I could not wish for a better son."

"And although you aren't my biological son," James said coming forward to rest his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I too am proud to say that I was your father, even if it was only for a little while. But come, Lily, we must go now, and you, young man, must return to the living."

Lily embraced her son one last time before allowing James to lead her away. Harry watched them hungrily as they walked away and before he could stop himself, he shouted:

"I love you mum!" the words felt foreign on his tongue.

"And I you," she said, holding his gaze in hers. "We will be watching, so remember your promise! Please pass my love onto Severus, and tell him I miss him very much and that he has no need to be afraid. I know he will be a good father." Her and James were fading from sight. "Oh, and by the way," Harry heard her call out. "Be careful what you say about the Malfoys. I happened to be best friends with Narcissa during my school days. Ask Severus about her." And with those final words, she faded from sight, and Harry felt himself being pulled into darkness.

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Severus woke up to the sunlight streaming into the hospital wing. It took him a few moments to realize that it was morning and he had slept through the entire night. He bolted up in bed, a very un-snape-ish thing to do, but considering the past 48 hours of his life, this event was of little consequence now. Craning his neck to see the clock, he saw it was almost 7:00.

"I can't believe I slept for almost twelve hours," he muttered to himself, and then looked over towards his son, who was tossing and turning in the bed, his limbs tangling themselves up in the sheets. It looked like he was having a nightmare. "Harry."

Severus rushed over and sat by the bed and was trying to decide if he should wake his son up, when he heard him whisper "Cedric!" and "Mum?" Severus sat, confused. He understood why the first name came up, his son must be dreaming about the night of Voldemort's resurrection. But where did Lily come in? He sounded confused to see her. Quite suddenly, the tossing and turning stopped, and again a whispered "Mum?" could be heard.

On instinct, Severus grabbed the hand that was reaching out to an invisible person, and held in tightly, not caring what it would look like should anyone walk in at that moment. This was what parents did when their children had nightmares, right? Severus had no memory of his father doing this for him, but sometimes he dreamed that his mother snuck into his room and rocked him in his sleep. He shook himself from his reveries. Right now, the only person that mattered was the one sleeping in the bed next to him, and Severus would be damned if anyone tried to pull him away from his son.

"No! Don't leave me!" Harry cried out suddenly, pain lacing each word and stabbing Severus in the heart. Severus held his hand tighter, whispering soothing nonsense, having no idea what he was doing. "I love you mum."

Severus heard the whisper and hit heart almost stopped. Whatever Harry was dreaming about must have shifted from the scene at the graveyard to something completely different, and Lily, _his_ Lily was there with him. Harry's body went limp in the bed and he groaned. He was waking up.

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Harry felt his eyes flutter open for a moment before shutting again in pain. Not a physical pain, but the kind of pain that comes with realizing that his dream was just that, a dream. He wanted to return to sleep so he could see his mother again, the woman who has sacrificed herself to save her defenseless son, the one person who had the answers to all the questions that were threatening to burst out of him at any moment.

He tried to move his hand so he could grab his glasses that would be sitting on the bedside table, but for some reason, he could not move his arm. He opened his eyes once more to look at the appendage in question only to find that Snape was holding his hand. Embarrassed, he wrenched his hand out of the older man's grasp.

"Why are you here?" In an attempt to cover up his embarrassment, Harry snapped the question out and accompanied it with a glare. "Have you come to gloat?"

Snape sneered on reflex. "And what would I gloat about?"

"Oh, please," He scoffed, now angry. "I know it was you who found me up on the astronomy tower. You saw my moment of weakness, and now you've come to shove it in my face. But it won't stop there. I'll never hear the end of it; how you happened upon little baby Potter, the boy-who-cries-for-his-mommy-and-daddy. I have no idea what stories you are going to spin to your little Slytherins, but I'll just deny that anything happened. Everyone knows that you hate me and that you probably made this shit up just to torment me. Don't think you'll get away with it!"

Harry knew that he was being completely irrational at this point and simply spouting off utter nonsense, but he did not care. It felt so good to lash out at someone, feeling an emotion besides depression course through his veins. Snape tried his best to remain calm and to remember that his son was going through something emotionally traumatic.

"Harry, please –"

"Oh, so it's _Harry_ now, is it?" he sneered. "What, just because you find out that I'm your son, it automatically erases the past four years of torment you inflicted on me? That it can explain this supposed change of heart? If you think that I'm going to fall for that rubbish, think again. I won't let you use this as your new form of torture."

"It's not as if I can call you "Potter" any longer. I will not give in to your desire to think that this is a hoax," Snape tried to maintain his calm demeanor. "I am trying to explain myself. I understand that you must be upset, but I had my memories removed to protect Lily. I had no idea that you were my son."

"Do you think that you can use _memory loss_ as a viable excuse for being a complete and total bastard to me by humiliating me whenever you had the chance? It doesn't matter that I was the son of your most hated enemy; you abused your position as a professor and consistently attacked me verbally when you knew perfectly well that I could do nothing to defend myself."

"Perhaps if you hadn't acted like a two year old throwing a tantrum, I would have had more respect for you!" Snape half-shouted, ignoring that what he was saying was completely false.

"Maybe if you hadn't abandoned my mum, she wouldn't be dead right now!" Harry shouted, playing his trump card. He smirked triumphantly as Snape's mouth snapped shut, his face an impassive mask. Without uttering another sound, Snape stood up and swept from the room, the audible slam of the door the only indication of his inward rage and sorrow.

A/N: Well, there you go. Another chapter. I'm getting started on the next as soon as this is posted.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Wow. I'm posting this at 1 in the morning, but I wanted to get it out before school started for the week. Thank you as always for reading. Usual disclaimers apply.

Previously:

"_Maybe if you hadn't abandoned my mum, she wouldn't be dead right now!" Harry shouted, playing his trump card. He smirked triumphantly as Snape's mouth snapped shut, his face an impassive mask. Without uttering another sound, Snape stood up and swept from the room, the audible slam of the door the only indication of his inward rage and sorrow._

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Chapter Eight: In which a decision is reached

Harry calmed as soon as Snape left the ward. The man's mere presence had put him on edge. That calm immediately gave way to guilt: guilt at what he had said, guilt for being completely unreasonable. Then his anger at being called a small child throwing a tantrum came back. How dare Snape tell him that? Throughout his years at Hogwarts, Snape used every and any chance he got to belittle Harry, mocking his father – no, James – the man who gave his life so that Harry might live. Hell, James Potter wasn't even his biological father and he showed more love for Harry in that one moment than Snape had in four years.

His guilt washed over him again. No, that wasn't right. Even though Snape had been a complete bastard, he had still looked out for Harry, hadn't he? Snape had tried to counter Quirrell's curse on the Nimbus 2000 and then refereed the following game in case anything happened again. He had come to the Shrieking Shack to catch Sirius Black, mostly because he hated the man, but also to protect Harry. This past June… last June he went back into Voldemort's service, knowing that he could be killed at any moment should snake-face discover out his true allegiances. And it had been Snape to rescue him from the Dursley's cruelty, hadn't it? Snape had done what Dumbledore had neglected to do. The blood wards might have ensured Harry's "protection" from dark wizards, but they did little to combat the obvious ill will of Uncle Vernon. Snape had taken him away from that hellhole, hopefully for good.

No, Harry _was_ throwing a tantrum, but what did Dumbledore think he was going to do, grab Snape's hand and go skipping through the Forbidden Forest together? Go brew a potion and discover his amazing latent brewing capabilities? Was he supposed to forget about Ron and Hermione and hang out with Malfoy and his goons in the dungeons? One discovery could not undo years of mockery and torment. Blood did not trump the hatred Snape had shown towards him.

Harry's emotions swirled and swirled, snowballing in his mind. _Calm down!_ He told himself. _Gods, get your emotions under control! What are you, five?_ But he could not control himself; the magic seemed to seep from his skin, affecting anything it touched. Even the windows began rattling and the glass threatened to shatter. His water glass rocked on the bedside table and Harry had the presence of mind to snatch it so it did not fall and smash to smithereens.

Suddenly, he remembered the warmth he had felt when Snape pulled him from the ledge. In that moment, he had felt safe for the first time in a long while. _Is that what affection feels like from a parent?_ He thought, relishing the memory. The windows were quiet as he placed the glass back on the table. _No. Snape may have been nice in that moment, but it probably wouldn't have been good for Dumbledore's savior to jump to his death. That wouldn't make for a clean front-page article for _The Daily Prophet_. Can he still feel love after all these years of tormenting defenseless students?_ Harry almost laughed at the thought. A picture of the man smiling widely (although he had no idea what he looked like when he smiled) and handing flowers and lollipops out to a group of Hufflepuff third year students in his potions class wormed into his mind. Harry really did laugh out loud at that point.

What was wrong with him? Why did he have to let his stupid prejudices cloud his judgment and blurt out whatever was on his mind? He had no self-control over his mind or his heart. Snape was right to call him arrogant, but Harry did not want to admit he was wrong to say those things. For once, he wanted to be a child, not an adult forced to face reality. He wanted to go back to that dream world and spend a lifetime with the two people who had died for him. He wanted to run far away from school, away from Voldemort, away from the father who clearly did not want him. Oh yes, Harry could easily see that Snape would rather have anyone else for a son. As if Snape wanted a cocky, attention-seeking, impertinent boy for a son, someone who thought the rules to be beneath him.

Even if Harry wanted to try and make amends with Snape, there was nothing he could do to change the older man's opinion of him. Snape was too set in his prejudices and it would take a miracle for him to see Harry as anything other than James Potter incarnate. Harry suddenly felt a pang of longing. Now, instead of just two dead parents, he could add a disappointed father to the list. Why was he always denied everything in life?

He envied Ron for having two living parents who saw him off to school every year, for having a mum that knitted him a jumper ever Christmas and cooked him large, homemade meals. Ron had siblings who joked and teased him, but looked out for him when he didn't realize it. Harry remembered the hug Molly Weasley had given him right there in that very ward: the first hug from a mother figure in living memory. Oh, he was sure that Lily had hugged him once upon a time, but his only memory of her was her being murdered by a psychopath.

Harry knew his next course of action. Even though it probably would not change anything, he would apologize the next moment he saw Snape. If Snape rejected his apology, well, at least he had done the proper thing. No one deserved to be blamed for the deaths of loved ones. Harry understood. He didn't blame Sirius for switching Secret Keepers with Peter, leading to the Potter's death by betrayal. Snape wasn't any more responsible for Lily's death than Sirius was. If Harry had forgiven Sirius, he could certainly forgive Snape, even if the man was a complete bastard at times.

White-hot pain interrupted his thoughts. Needles seemed to puncture every surface of his skin. Knives tore at his face, stabbing his eyes and nose and mouth. His blood boiled beneath the surface of his skin. His limbs were being torn off all at once. Somewhere, in the distance, a scream signaling the utmost pain could be heard. Through his own pain, Harry realized that he had to help that person; he had to save them from their suffering. Unfortunately, whoever that was would have to wait. Harry felt rather than saw the darkness swallow him and he knew no more.

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As soon as the door shut, Snape let out a strangled gasp, throwing out a hand against the wall to steady himself. How dare that brat accuse him of being responsible for Lily's death! He wanted to march right back into that ward and wring that arrogant boy's scrawny neck. That child had no idea how much Snape wished he could have traded places with her, to die in her stead. She had done nothing wrong except love a man who wasn't good for her.

Knowing that no one was likely to come across him (the only other people in the castle were Albus, Madam Pomfrey, and Filch), he slid down the wall of the corridor just outside the ward and hugged his knees to his chest, pretending he was 12 again and hiding in his closet from his father's wrath. It was his fault. He should have found another way to protect her. He should have made Albus swear to return his memories in case Lily had to go into hiding. He should have been the Secret Keeper. He should have taken Lily and his unborn child far away from England instead of agreeing to Albus' plan.

All of these new (well, old) memories tormented him both in his dreams and during the waking hours. The emotions felt both foreign and completely natural at the same time. Snape had loved Lily with everything he had, those memories proved that. Yet, he had spent the last fifteen years hating and mocking everyone he came across, except for Dumbledore. His mind knew that he had the capacity to love, but his heart didn't remember how, and no amount of memories could teach him that.

He looked at his hands. Thin, white scars riddled them, crisscrossing this way and that, reminders of his many potions accidents. A small burn at the base of his thumb stood out. For as long as he could remember, Snape had no recollection of how he got that burn. A scene played in his mind, unbidden. He had come across a 14 year old Lily in an unused classroom, brewing a potion they would not be studying until later that year. She had followed the directions perfectly, but for some reason the potion was not the correct consistency. Trying to help her out, he had touched the base of his thumb to the piping hot cauldron and burned it.

As soon as the memory had come, it fled. Snape pressed his hands to his eyes, willing the memory to return. He recalled Lily's soft hands holding the ice she had conjured to keep the burn from swelling, her sweet brows furrowed with concern at the simple mishap. Really, he had been careless and was distracted by her mesmerizing emerald eyes. It was his fault… just like her death. He had come full circle.

Why couldn't the child be more like her? She had been kind and compassionate, one of the gentlest humans he had ever known, but also fiercely loyal and unafraid to defend those she loved. He saw few of those qualities in her son, although Albus thought otherwise. Snape gave a short laugh. He saw the boy more often than Albus did, so how could he not have a more fully formed opinion?

Snape knew that he was harder on the boy than any other student, but there were a number of reasons for that, than main one being that he had appearances to keep up. He had to show favoritism to the precious children of the Dark Lord's slaves. Anything other than a blatant bias would raise suspicions. Besides, every other teacher seemed to think that the boy was above the rules, never giving him a proper punishment for constantly putting himself in danger. Snape merely compensated for their oversight.

His musings were cut short by a horrific scream of pain coming from the ward. There was only one patient in there. Snape leapt to his feet and charged through the door like a wild dragon. The sight that greeted him made him immediately forget the negative thoughts he had been thinking towards the child.

Harry was screaming like he was under the Cruciatus Curse, convulsing and clawing at his face as if that would relieve the pain. His skin seemed to be bubbling. Snape was at a loss for what to do. He had no idea what was going on and merely froze. Luckily, Madam Pomfrey had her wits about her and she immediately set to work. She took one look at Snape in his petrified state and barked at him.

"Why are you standing there like an incompetent first year? Help me hold him down so I can administer some pain-relieving potions!"

Her admonishment released him from his catatonic status and he practically leaped over to the bed. The flailing arms he tried to grab suddenly went limp and Snape realized that Harry had blacked out from the intensity of the pain. The nurse shoved a vial into his hand and left the area. Snape looked at it for a moment before realizing that the potion was most certainly not for him, but for the boy next to him. He cradled the boy's head in his arm and tipped the potion into his open mouth, massaging his neck to make him swallow. At that moment, Madam Pomfrey came into his sight followed by Albus who was looking at Harry with an unreadable expression.

"Well, I am indeed curious as to why the process sped up so quickly. I had thought the changes would happen slowly over the next week or so, not all at once." Albus now looked curiously at the child. "I assume that he has been administered a potion for the pain, Poppy?"

"Of course, headmaster," the nurse sounded highly affronted, as though Dumbledore had accused her of a treasonous crime. "It wouldn't do for him to be in that state of pain for any length of time. He should wake in a few hours. I imagine that the transformation back to his true appearance robbed him of most of the energy he had. Something must have catalyzed it, a strong emotion, most likely. The transition might not even be complete. He will be in a weakened state for a few days, a week at the most."

Snape realized that he hadn't properly looked at the boy when he rushed in. Now that he did, he thought he was looking into a distorted mirror.

"Don't you think, Severus?"

Snape drew his attention away from the figure lying prone on the hospital bed in time to hear the tail end of a question from Dumbledore.

"Forgive me, headmaster, my thoughts were elsewhere," Snape said, trying to cover his obvious fascination with his son's looks. He knew he had failed when he saw Dumbledore's eyes twinkling madly in his direction. Damn the old man and his ability to draw out emotions that Snape didn't want drawn out. He flushed, embarrassed, but that didn't stop him from sneering, "Any moment you are up to the task, Albus. I'm waiting for you to repeat your question."

"I said that young Harry is quite unrecognizable from his former state, don't you agree?" Dumbledore said, chuckling at Snape's expression. Really, the man should know by now that he need not try and hide his true emotions behind a mask. Dumbledore always saw through them. "When he is strong enough to move from bed, the three of us must speak together. I shall be in my office. Until then, try not to harass him too much, Severus. You do not need to antagonize the poor child." With that blasted twinkle in his eye, Dumbledore left the ward.

Madam Pomfrey returned to her office, leaving Snape alone with his son once more. His eyes took in the unfamiliar sight. The hair was definitely his: raven black and calmer than his former mess of hair, almost silky. High cheekbones that Snape had inherited from his own mother accentuated the now paler skin of the boy's face. The facial similarities stopped there, but it was enough that the boy looked remarkably similar to him. However, Snape could see Lily's arched nose and stubborn chin; he had no doubt that when the boy opened his eyes, Snape would once again see her eyes in his. The boy really was lucky, though. Snape had been gawky at 15, but his son's features were less angular and more delicate. Well, maybe he wouldn't appreciate it, wanting to look more 'manly,' but Snape felt an unfamiliar tug in his chest at the sight of his and Lily's features blended so perfectly in their son.

A spasm wracked the boy's body and his mouth open in a silent cry. Snape instinctively grabbed the hand that flailed out in his direction. He dropped it in the next second. What was he doing? Just because the boy looked like Lily did not mean he needed to become completely sentimental like a coddling Molly Weasley. A low moan escaped the body on the bed. As Snape looked on, the boy clamped his mouth shut, clearly refusing to let another sound pass through his lips. Was he… fighting the pain? Was he trying to bear his torturous change in complete silence?

Snape looked at Harry with something akin to a speck of respect in his eyes. He knew all about the silent acceptance of pain after playing lap dog to the Dark Lord for so many years. The twisted snake was very liberal in his administration of punishment for even the slightest offense. He threw the Cruciatus curse at his 'servants' more often than Longbottom screwed up something in class. A Death Eater learned very quickly that the Dark Lord delighted in hearing screams of suffering. The more one voiced his pain, the longer punishment he took. Silence bored the Dark Lord. To him, pain was a sign of weakness and the Dark Lord greatly dislikes weak followers.

This lesson was one that Snape had to be taught at a young age. Like the Dark Lord, Snape's father was quick to hand out punishment while his mother watched silently. If Snape yelled during a whipping, he received five more lashes; a scream under the Cruciatus resulted in a longer spell. Crying had also been severely punished. Snape could not recall the last time he had cried, in public or in private. It was as though all his tears had dried up with the scorching rage of his father's ruthlessness.

Snape had witnessed Harry's uncle abuse him physically. Had Harry learned the same life lessons that he had? He did not want to believe it, but Harry's reluctance to scream even now proved that something had been conditioned in him. Did Harry understand the importance of dignity even in pain and death? Snape was afraid to find out. If what he suspected was true, then he had seriously misjudged his son. However, one coincidental happenstance did not prove Snape wrong. Only time would tell. As Harry's body once again tensed in pain, Snape was surprised to find that he hoped that time would come soon.

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Snape did not know how long he sat in the chair next to Harry's bed, but judging by the fact that the sun was just beginning to set, he had been there for quite a while. At some point during his vigil, he had grasped Harry's hand once again, but this time he had not let it go. Watching Harry fight the pain over and over again for the past several hours had given him time to reconsider his opinions on the child.

One thing was absolutely clear: Harry was not a child. Snape should have realized that as soon as Harry came back from his latest encounter with Voldemort clutching Diggory's dead body. Witnessing death changed a person permanently. Snape knew that Harry heard Potter and Lily's last moments when Dementors came near (Dumbledore and that mutt, Lupin, had told him more times than he cared to remember), but he had tossed that information aside with a sneer and continued to taunt Harry about his dead parents. Snape felt ashamed at that thought. How many times had he mocked James Potter to Harry's face, constantly reminding him that he was an orphan? God, he was such a bastard!

The sound of the door of the ward opening caused him to look up. Dumbledore walked towards him, pulling up a chair and sitting on the opposite side of the bed. He glanced down at Harry before turning to Snape with a serious expression.

"How are you, Severus." It was not a question.

"I'm such a fool, Albus," the words tumbled unbidden from his mouth, but he did not care. "I let my prejudices cloud my judgment; my hatred for James Potter cost me the opportunity to connect with my son. Why couldn't I see him for what he truly was? Has he always been this strong?"

"Severus, I think I can help calm your mind," Albus allowed himself to slouch against the back of the chair, looking more like his 150 years than ever.

"Is that so?" Snape said, scowling at the older man. "I don't think it's possible to salvage a relationship with someone who hates me. He blames me for Lily's death – he made that perfectly clear this morning. I blame myself for her death too. I do not think he will accept me. I have never given him any reason whatsoever to respect me. I used my position as a professor as a means to torment him. I took points and gave detentions unfairly and he never complained to another professor or to you. He flouted school rules and snuck around the castle at night, but what student doesn't do that at some point during their time here? I singled him out and never tried to learn his true nature. For god's sake, Albus, I tried to have him expelled on more than one occasion!"

"Severus, I am not saying that you are free from fault in this matter," Albus said, ending Snape's tirade. "I believe we both understand that you were the adult and should have been more mature when interacting with a child who had no power to fight back." Snape flinched at Dumbledore's blunt words, but made no effort to correct him. They were, after all, quite true. "However, Harry has demonstrated an unusual capability for attracting trouble. Most of that trouble he had little fault in, but some was do to his irresponsibility and disregard for the rules. I acknowledge that."

At this Snape looked up, his mind screaming his disbelief while his face remained a mask of indifference. The Headmaster had always defended the boy against his complaints, stubbornly refusing to find fault with the child. He had thought that Dumbledore was blinded by his affection for the boy who had defeated the Dark Lord for a time. This too had fueled Snape's loathing for Harry. Snape considered Dumbledore a sort of mentor (dare he say, father-figure) during the years of the Dark Lord's power and the years of peace that followed. When Harry came to Hogwarts and Dumbledore constantly overlooked his rule breaking, Snape felt betrayed.

"Have you always known this?" He sneered. Dumbledore suddenly looked sheepish.

"I have thought this for some time, yes," he admitted. "I also thought that if I admitted my thoughts to you, you would never see Harry for himself. I thought you would seek more ways to hurt him. Of course, an old man forgets how stubborn you can be, and your opinion of him was not the only reason for my turning a blind eye to his actions. I admit, that I felt guilty and responsible for what Harry had been through." When Snape didn't say anything, Dumbledore continued.

"While I didn't realize the extent of the hatred that Vernon Dursley felt towards the magic he could never understand, I was not so blind that I thought Harry would have a gloriously happy childhood. I knew there would be resentment; I knew that there would be love lost. However, I needed to ensure Harry's survival and give him a chance to grow up away from the fame that had to potential to create a monster. When he came to Hogwarts, I knew that something was amiss. I never imagined abuse, but I knew instinctively that Harry could not trust an adult because no adult had ever given him a reason to do so. How could I punish the boy for trying to solve problems on his own when it had been my fault that he acted in such a way? I have tried to justify my actions to myself many times, but even now my 'justifications' seem weak."

Hearing the most powerful wizard admit his fallibility is not an everyday occurrence. He could not fully understand the position Dumbledore had been in (and he certainly did not agree with his course of action), but he could see the difficult weight of guilt that rested on the older man's shoulders.

"I believe that I have been unfair in placing the blame entirely on you," Snape said quietly. "I have certainly not acted maturely these past years, especially where Harry was concerned. My behavior was certainly not your fault." Dumbledore merely looked at him and Snape continued, incredulous. "Surely you don't think you are responsible for _my_ actions! That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

His voice had risen to a half shout. He snapped his mouth shut as a movement next to him drew his gaze. Harry was stirring on the bed. Snape was afraid that it was another accelerated growth spurt and made to get Poppy for another pain killing potion. However, Harry merely turned his head from side to side, his hands limp. Snape relaxed back into his chair. The two men sat in silence for some moments and Harry grew still once more. Dumbledore shifted in his chair and said:

"Severus, there is something else I must admit." Snape looked sharply at Dumbledore. "When we removed your memories, I did not realize the full extent of what your mind would suffer. When you first came to work at Hogwarts, I noticed a sharp difference in your temperament. At first, I thought that it was merely your facade should any faithful death eaters still be watching you. As you remember, we thought that Voldemort had managed to procure a spy amongst the staff. As time passed, I began to worry. Not even in the safety of my company did you let your mask slip, and it was then I knew that something was wrong.

I consulted my friend at St. Mungo's, Healer Daine Alexander. You remember her, I believe? She has tended to you on a number of occasions when Poppy could not. She has been one of my closest friends for many years, and I knew I could trust her with this secret. Do not worry. I revealed nothing of Lily. Once I told her that you were involved she only wanted to know the general circumstances, no names. I described what I had done, removing any private memories of Lily, James, and Narcissa Malfoy from your fourth year and onward. That in its self was extremely tricky, what if I had removed too much? Gaps in your memory would have been detrimental. All went well in that regard. You still remembered your public encounters with them, but all the secrets revolving around the four of you had been removed so as not to endanger anyone."

As you will remember, before you and Lily began to develop a deeper bond, you and James had been at odds, although your conflict was mostly with Sirius Black. James mostly went along because he thought himself in love with Lily. Once the four of you began working together to hide your respective relationships, James began to antagonize you more in public to protect you all. He also began to "date" Lily. That infamous event at the end of your fifth year was a result of Sirius Black's stupidity and desire to humiliate you. When James found out what Sirius had done, he was deeply afraid for you, knowing that you stood no chance against a fully-grown werewolf. By this point the two of you had become close friends. His friendship with Sirius took the rest of the year and all summer to heal."

Snape could remember all of this, but the memories were fuzzy, and he felt like his head was going to burst with all of his conflicting emotions. For the last sixteen years, he had hated James Potter to his very core, hating all that he represented. Now that he could remember the entire picture, his mind did not know how to process the information. He knew that he had been on good terms with James (as his mind now automatically referred to the man), but he could not remember what that felt like, the camaraderie, the fear of being exposed, but he delight at fooling the entire school.

"Now, consider the past sixteen years," Dumbledore was speaking again. "If you could not remember all of the secrets the four of you kept, and only knew what the rest of the school knew, what is the most logical way for you to act?"

"In my mind," Snape said slowly. "James continually attacked me without provocation. He saved me that night because he was trying to save his own skin. He stole Lily from me and I have loved her since I first laid eyes on her, although I didn't know it at the time. I thought James had stolen her."

"The gaps in your memories did not seem like gaps because it had been three years since school. You simply attributed it to trying to suppress the more horrible events of your school years. Your emotions," Dumbledore stopped to gather his fault. "Your emotional state is my fault, but how could I have known what would happen, the terrible thing I had done? Wiping out those memories of James, Lily, and Narcissa erased all of the memories you had of love. James had become like your brother, Narcissa a sister, and Lily – Lily loved you so passionately I wondered how people could not see it. She was the first person you had ever truly loved, and who loved you wholeheartedly in return that erasing her from your memory was the cruelest thing I have ever done. Your bitterness and caustic outlook formed because I took away everything that had made you happy. My only defense is that I did not realize it at the time. My only thought was to protect the two of you so you could be happy once this stupid war finished. It is my greatest regret that Lily died without you knowing what she was to you and that you have spent the last sixteen years in this state. I hope that someday, you can forgive me, but I'm not a fool enough to think that it will happen any time soon."

"Albus, I –"

"Please, do not say anything." Snape was shocked to see a tear running down the older man's cheek. "When you are ready we will talk about this. All I want you to know is this: I never wanted to see you in pain, and I do not believe that Harry blames you for Lily's death. I know that is what he told you, but you have to remember that he has gone through an enormous emotional upheaval these past days. If you give him the opportunity, he will apologize. He probably feels as lost and confused as you do. I intend to do my best to insure that you two can find family in one another, if it is what you both want. I hope that when this is all over, we can finally live in peace." Without making any motion to wipe his tears away, Dumbledore stood up and walked out of the ward, his feet slightly unsteady.

Snape put his head in his hands. In that moment, he made his decision. He would be civil towards Harry and offer him a home not because he was his son, but because Harry deserved the opportunity to have a family. Looking back over the boy's time at Hogwarts, Snape remembered his bravery and compassion, his steadfast loyalty and ambition to prove himself. Harry was more than the Boy-Who-Lived; he was truly Lily's son.

Harry stirred quietly once more, but Snape did not notice. He was too lost in his own thoughts.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry flew through the air, the wind whipping his hair, his eyes alight with the exhilaration that always comes when he mounts a broom. All of his troubles stayed on the ground, unable to compete with gravity. The sun beat down on him, warming him from the outside as his joy at being in the air warmed him from the inside out.

Suddenly, a bludger whipped by him, missing his head by scant inches. Where had that come from? He was the only one up here and no one was on the ground. Thinking he had simply imagined it, he did not notice it heading towards him again. This time, the crazy ball connected with the small of his back, successfully knocking him from his broom. He reached for his wand to somehow slow himself down. Pulling it from underneath his sleeve, he looked at it dumbly, realizing he had no idea what to do. Did _Wingardium Leviosa_ work on a human? Did the size of an object matter, or whether or not it was alive? How long could such a spell hold him up, long enough to get him to the ground?

For some reason, he could not get his hand to move or his mouth to speak any words. Was this his untimely end? There were so many things he had never had a chance to do! What about Voldemort? Even though he was only fifteen, he felt a responsibility to help defeat that monster. With his death, he would be leaving others behind to face him, to possibly die by his hand.

He looked towards the ground coming closer and closer. How long had he been falling? These were weird thoughts to have before death. He could smell the grass now and closed his eyes to prepare for the impact that would leave him a broken corpse.

"OW!"

Harry opened his eyes and saw white. He rolled over and tried to sit up, but fell back, completely disoriented, and felt his head crack against a hard surface. His body ached all over, as though he were sore from a difficult work out, only it felt a hundred times worse than that. His muscles were lead, heavy and unmovable. Through the pain, he registered that everything about his body felt off. His limbs were too long, his body felt too thin, even his teeth seemed different. He opened his eyes once more and was surprised to find himself not on the quidditch pitch, not even on a bed in the hospital wing, but on the _floor_ next to a bed in the hospital wing.

"I must have been dreaming." No, that was NOT his voice. What the hell was going on?

"Are you all right?" OK, something he knew, only different. That voice he recognized (how could he not, the man had never missed an opportunity to insult him the last four years), although it had never been directed towards him in such a tone. It sounded… anxious? Realizing that he was in an undignified heap on the floor in a hospital robe, Harry tried not to panic. Why did that man have to find him in such an embarrassing situation?

"I think so," he muttered, knowing he was blushing.

"Can you manage on your own?"

Harry finally looked towards the sound of the voice. There was Snape, sitting in a chair, a strange look on his face. Not wanting to suffer any more embarrassment, he shook his head and moved to get up from his position on the floor. Unfortunately, his body was not cooperating and he tumbled right back down, groaning as his body protested the movement. Arms hooked under his armpits and heaved him up and into the bed. Harry stared.

"Um, thanks," he murmured, cursing himself for sounding so pathetic. Then he noticed something strange. He reached up to adjust his glasses, but found nothing there. Frowning, he glanced towards the bedside table and found them sitting there. He reached out an arm that was paler than he remembered and grasped the glasses, fumbling them. Placing them on his face, he startled when his vision blurred beyond recognition.

"I do not believe you need those any longer," Snape said, unhelpfully.

"Excuse me?" Harry said in disbelief, pulling the glasses off his face. He fumbled them again. This was so strange. It was like he did not know how to move his body any more.

"If you will test my theory, I do not believe you need those glasses. Your vision has righted itself." Harry looked at him incredulously and then noticed that he could make out the features of the professor's face perfectly. He glanced around the room in awe as he took in the sights for the first time without the aid of eyewear.

"Everything is so clear, and so… white," he said the last word with a tinge of disgust. What did his body look like with this new vision? He held his hands up in front of his face, flipping them over and over again. Was it just his eyesight, or did his hands look different? His fingers seemed longer, more slender, and paler. For good measure he looked down at his legs. Those too were longer and paler, like he had had a growth spurt over night, but that was ridiculous. Perhaps this was the side effect of a potion that Madam Pomfrey had given him. Maybe he was going crazy.

"You are perfectly sane," Snape said and Harry realized that he had spoken his last thought out loud. "If you look at yourself in the mirror, you will find that you look very different now." Snape waved his waved and transfigured a pillow on the next bed over into a small mirror. Handing it to Harry, Snape had that strange look on his face again. Suddenly afraid, Harry looked at Snape rather than the mirror. Black eyes pierced his own and somehow Harry knew why his limbs were different and why he was paler. Taking a deep breath, he finally looked into the mirror.

"Hey, I'm not ugly!" the outburst shocked both men sitting in the room and Harry quickly blushed again. "I mean, I – erm. I just meant –"

"My nose is not genetic, so there was never any worry that you would inherit it."

Still blushing, Harry looked in the mirror again. It was an odd sensation. If he had not known that he was looking at himself, he would have hardly recognized the stranger staring back at him. Pale with high cheekbones, Harry was shocked that he did not have the angular face of the man sitting next to him. His features were softened. His nose had lengthened slightly and his hair – his hair was actually behaving! The only part that had not been changed was his eyes. Thankfully, the same almond shaped emerald green eyes looked back at him, only they carried a slightly haunted look.

"I look like a girl." He moaned, fingering the arch of his nose. The lack of weight from his glasses would take getting used to. "I look so feminine."

"You look like your mother." Harry stilled at the unexpected statement and then Snape smirked. "Thank god. And you do not look like a girl, as you so _delicately_ put it. I can show you pictures if you like. Simply because you do not look like a Neanderthal anymore does not mean you look feminine. That hair of yours was absolutely atrocious."

"Hey, I _liked_ my hair!" Harry said, on the verge of whining. "I didn't have to do anything to it. It never grew, never changed, it was just about the only consistent thing in my life." He paused, looking back and forth between the mirror and his father. "I look like you too."

"Yes, you have many of my facial features and my height, of course." Snape spoke quietly, as though he feared being overheard. His tone surprised Harry. Snape did not sound bitter or sarcastic, but genuine. He could not help staring at his father. "Is something the matter, Harry?" the name sounded foreign and slightly wrong on his tongue.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" he did not mean to ask the question, but he was dying to know. This change was too sudden, to insane. Not to mention Harry's deplorable behavior and words towards the man just this morning, was it even this morning? The days seemed too long. How long had he been here? He really should apologize, but how would Snape receive it?

Meanwhile, Snape tried to process Harry's question. He could not think how to answer it. Instinct seemed to be driving him to forge a relationship with his son, but he did not want to force himself on the boy. If this morning's conversation told him anything it was that the boy did not want him around, although this conversation had yet to take a turn for the worse.

Harry examined himself. If he were completely honest, he would admit that he wanted to see if he and Snape could find common ground, but he did not want the man to accept him out of obligation or pity. All he wanted was to be accepted for him, for just Harry. This conversation, while wonderfully light, had to be too good to be true. The fact that they had gone over five minutes without exchanging an insult was a miracle. Maybe there was hope, but Harry had a feeling that he needed to make the first move, but it was so hard.

"I'm sorry," Harry blurted out before Snape could gather his thoughts and form a sentence. "What I said was unfair and completely out of line. I understand if you hate me even more than you already do. If you really did love my mum there's no way you would have done anything to put her in more danger than she was already in. I know how that is – to see someone you love threatened. Also –" this was the most difficult thing for him to admit. "Also, if Professor Dumbledore trusts you, and I trust him, then I have no reason not to believe you. After all, if I cannot trust the headmaster, whom can I trust? And that's just what Voldemort wants, isn't it? For us to turn on each other in fear and doubt." He snapped his mouth shut, blushing, feeling he had overstepped his limit.

Snape, on the other hand, stared at him, mouth opening and closing as he tried and failed to come up with a suitable response. First, the boy apologizes. It should have been he, Severus Snape, that apologized for his atrocious behavior, not Harry.

"How old _are_ you?" came out of Snape's mouth before his filter stopped it. He immediately fell silent, blushing as well. That was not the question he had meant to ask, but it was a fair one. How many 15 year old boys willingly admitted their faults to someone they did not see eye to eye with (although this is, perhaps, an understatement of their relationship)? In the past few minutes, Harry had sounded like he was 45, not 15. Well, if someone half his age could manage to say sorry, he could open his mighty mouth and apologize.

"I'm sorry, sir. What?" came the incredulous response.

"It is I who must apologize." Snape said, no trace of a sneer on his face. Harry gaped at him. "I was the adult in all of our encounters, and you the child. I gave you no reason to respect me, so your outburst was quite understandable."

"But that's not true! Sir," Harry added hastily, not wanting to seem rude. "You looked out for me – you saved me so many time. The stone, the quidditch match, when you thought Sirius was going to kill me, last June… this _summer_. Uncle Vernon would have _killed_ me if you had not been there. I never thanked you for that. I was completely ungrateful. I'm sorry."

"I appreciate your… staunch defense of my behavior, but I do not deserve it," when Harry opened his mouth to object, Snape silenced him with a wave of his hand. "No, let me finish. While it is true that I tried to keep you alive, it was just that and only that. It was not out of any love I had for you. I did it grudgingly, against my will, only because the headmaster asked me. You have to understand that after he removed my memories, I lost – I lost part of my ability to feel those emotions that make us human: compassion, love, pity. Those seemed impossible for me."

"I know, sir."

"How could you possibly know that?" Snape tried to keep the sneer out of his voice, remembering that he was not there to belittle the child. He felt an instinct to both insult and hug the boy. It was a rather odd sensation. Harry, on the other hand, looked sheepish.

"I heard your conversation with Professor Dumbledore. I – I didn't mean to!" he added when Snape didn't say anything. "I just sort of, you know, woke up. I felt like I was in this strange limbo state. I didn't mean to intrude and I wasn't going to bring it up unless you did."

"I see."

"I'm sorry, sir. There I go again, sticking my nose were it doesn't belong. I'm sorry." The two sat in silence, Harry hunched over, Snape looking at him with an unreadable expression. Finally, Harry could not stand the silence any longer and said, "Please, sir, say something. I would rather hear you yell than this awful silence."

"Why would I yell at you?" The voice was simply curious, no hint of malice or mockery directed towards him. Harry looked shocked.

"What do you mean, sir? I did what I always do; I get involved in something that's none of my business. Although, for whatever reason, when I try to avoid trouble, it makes an extra effort to find me."

"I'm actually relieved."

"I know, I promise to – wait, what? Why?"

"Well, if you can use your short term memory to think back to just a minute ago, you will recall that I was about to explain to you what Professor Dumbledore had just explained to me. Why would I be mad at you for knowing something that I was going to tell you?"

"But what if you didn't want to tell me everything that Professor Dumbledore told you? You know? What if you only wanted to tell me part of it, because I'm just a stupid child who is too young to know anything important even when it concerns me." Harry's tone took a bitter turn.

Well, that was a reasonable question.

"I believe I understand your concern. However, I believe that in order for us to… properly understand one another, I must be open with you. I said I was relieved because I am rather unused, to say the least, to discussing my private life or, feelings." He ended lamely. Why was this so difficult? "For now, I will try and explain my feelings as I experienced them without my memories. As I was saying, I may have saved your life, as you so generously put it, but I know from personal experience how having someone you consider your enemy save your life does not endear you to them. In fact, for the time in which my memories were removed, I hated James Potter. His saving my life only made me hate him more. Most people would rather die than be humiliated by being indebted to someone they hate. That was how I felt."

"I think I understand, sir." Harry said slowly. "But I know that it wasn't really your fault. I mean, you could have been a little nicer, but you didn't have to save me and yeah," he rambled. Gods, he sounded stupid. "I mean to say, that I know at the time you did it because Professor Dumbledore asked you to, but you still did it, and I think you would have gladly done it had you been aware of our relationship. And I am truly grateful. I think the only reason I'm still alive right now is because of you and Professor Dumbledore and a lot of luck."

"I am going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me," Snape said, knowing that once he spoke there would be no going back. "I don't want to you think of my "feelings" or think of what others would say or want you to do. You do not even have to answer me right now. I want this to your decision, and yours alone." Harry looked at him, confused but nodding his head for Snape to continue. The man took a deep breath.

"I would like to see if we can amend this relationship. I know that I have not acted like a human being for a very long time and it will be difficult, but I think you deserve to choose for yourself." He stopped to breath and Harry quickly spoke.

"Sir, you don't have to do this just because I'm – because I'm your son. I know I'm a handful and I don't want to be a burden." Even as Harry spoke these words, that longing for a family filled him again, but he shoved it aside. No one should have to sacrifice their happiness just for him. He did not deserve it.

"I'm not doing this strictly because you are my son." Harry suddenly felt a hope he had not known he could feel. "This is not an obligation on my part that I am grudgingly fulfilling. I am doing this freely. you deserve to have a family and I intend to give you that chance, but only if you want it. I am not the easiest person to love, anyone can tell you that, but I would be willing to try and make this work if it is what you want."

"But, sir! I don't want to force you into doing something that you might later regret. I –"

"Did you not listen to what I just said, Harry?" Snape said, and paused in case Harry freaked out again for using his name. "Harry, I want to get to know you, the real you. Not the little I have seen of you these last four years, but the person that Albus and Minerva and Lupin speak so highly of. Life has robbed you of basic things that most people take for granted and yet you have not given into it. You have pushed through it and become someone that your mother would be so proud of."

Harry sat in silence, thinking. Professor Snape's offer sounded so wonderful. This conversation showed that the man could be nice if given the chance, but what happened if the older man suddenly decided he did not want to raise an emotionally charged teenager? Could Harry go back to the way things were, an orphan? He recalled his mother's words to him._He is a good man, despite the mask he puts on for the world. You are his chance to live life fully again. Please at least try to get to know him before you pass judgment. He wants a son just as much as you want a father._ What gave Harry the right to judge the man before he spent time discovering his true character? He felt ashamed that he thought the man would rescind his offer. The older man deserved this too; everyone had a right to family, even snarky Professor Snape.

"Sir, I think mum would be proud of you too." Harry said and then pushed on, inspired. "I know this is going to sound crazy, but I think I talked to her in my dream." Snape made to move forward but caught himself. His eyes were wide. "She told me to give you a chance and that she knows you would make a good father, and – and she passes her love on to you." Snape's eyes bugged out at this last confession. Maybe Harry should not have said that. No, he deserved to hear it, even if it was his mind playing tricks on him. "Do you think it was real, sir?"

"I would like to believe so," Snape said, his voice cracking with emotion. "Although, I do not know how we could prove it one way or the other."

"She also told me to ask you about Narcissa Malfoy. She said they were friends. Is that true?" He could not imagine his mother being friends with Malfoy's mother. The thought was just too crazy. Then again, he would have said the same thing about Professor Snape being his biological father and that was still true. Harry saw him turn white. "Sir, are you all right?"

"Forgive me, are you positive she said that her and Narcissa were friends?" Snape distinctly remembered that Harry had not seen the memory between him and Lily and Narcissa and James. He had specifically asked Dumbledore not to show it, thinking it was too personal at the time. Was it possible?

"Yes, sir, I am positive. She said to be careful what I said about the Malfoys because her and Narcissa were best friends and to ask you about her." Harry watched the professors face carefully, anxious to hear what he would say next.

"Yes," Snape whispered. "Your mother and Narcissa became very close during our school days." He was about to explain how she and James had fallen in love, but Harry interrupted:

"It was real! This proves it. How else could I have known to ask you about her?" Harry sounded hopeful, desperate even. "Please, sir. I know I'm not crazy. She felt so real, they both did." He remembered his mother's hug, her scent that smelled of lavender, a cross between the taste of fresh water and that feeling you get when you see a field untouched by human destruction.

"I believe you," Snape said loudly and then muttered again, "I believe you." The rest of his brain caught up with him. "Wait, you said 'they both did'?"

"Yes, my dad, er – James was there too." This conversation had taken a strange turn. "He said he was proud of me, even though I wasn't his son. I – I think he was giving me his blessing, telling me that it was OK to consider you my father… I'm sorry, sir. I'm rambling again."

"I believe that this brings us back to my original question, Harry. I will say again, you do not have to make up your mind right now. I understand that this is not an easy decision to make."

"I know that too, sir," Harry said nervously. "But I've made my decision. I don't need any more time, really." Taking a deep breath, Harry stated, "I want to give this a go. I think my mum and James were right. Both of us deserve to have a family. I want to see where this goes. Besides," he smirked, "I already look like you. I can't exactly go back to being Harry Potter. I don't want to live a lie. I just hope that you know what you are getting yourself into. Trouble is rather attracted to me for some reason."

The smile that spread across Snape's face was one that Harry would never forget.

A/N: There you go, a nice, long chapter. Next one should be up within two weeks although I have midterms this week, so it might be a little longer. Thank you for sticking with me!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I have to apologize. This is two weeks later than I intended, but I have been trying to upload this chapter since the end of my Spring Break and have had a lot of problems doing so. Also, there is a lot of talking and explanations in this chapter, so there isn't a lot of hair raising action, but hang in there! It's necessary for plot development :)

Disclaimer: usual one applies.

_Previously:_

"_I already look like you. I can't exactly go back to being Harry Potter. I don't want to live a lie. I just hope that you know what you are getting yourself into. Trouble is rather attracted to me for some reason."_

_The smile that spread across Snape's face was one that Harry would never forget. _

Chapter Nine: In which the trickster sets his stage

"Well, I see that my plan should not present any problems for us."

Harry and Severus both turned at the sound of the voice. Dumbledore stood in the door of the hospital ward, practically beaming at the two of them. Dressed in an outlandish set of robes in orange and turquoise, he bounced over to where Harry was laying in bed and pulled up a chair. He sat down and Harry thought that this was the youngest he had ever seen Dumbledore look. Severus was astonished at the difference between the sorrowful man of this morning and the sprightly man of tonight. The twinkle in his eyes dominated the old man's face. Severus suddenly recalled him mentioning his plan for hiding Harry from Voldemort. He had a sneaking suspicion that he would not like this plan.

"What plan, sir?" Harry asked, an expression of child-like innocence and curiosity on his face. His mind, on the other hand, was turning with possibilities for his future. What would happen now that he and the professor had finally decided to be civil? He hoped Dumbledore would not try and separate them from one another. This thought should have surprised him, but it did not. Although he still felt highly insecure about the entire situation, he truly wanted to give the man a chance. It was strange. The professor had been so – nice – this evening, even after Harry had brutally insulted the man that morning. Did he want to get to know Harry? He doubted it, but the opportunity to have a family was a reality that he was willing to do anything for. He desired it so desperately that the mere thought that Dumbledore might yank it away made him angry.

"How are you feeling right now, Harry?"

"Honestly, sir, I'm tired, my body hurts like hell, and I'm a bit hungry," Harry narrowed his eyes. "I would also like you to answer my question, sir, which you tried to avoid just now. What plan were you referring to?"

Snape had to marvel at Harry's audacity. The boy managed to maintain a civil yet curious tone while demanding answers. Snape smirked; the boy was not going to lie down and take Dumbledore's evasiveness any longer. He was not as stupid as Snape had once thought. The headmaster would have to spill his plan soon or have a riot on his hands. Yes, this would be very entertaining to watch.

"Yes, well, all in good time, my boy. Why don't you have a light meal? Your body will need the energy to restore your magical reserves. They are quite low."

"I will eat, professor, but only because I am hungry," Dumbledore smiled and Harry continued. "Then, you will talk and tell me all about this joyful little plan of yours. And I want the whole truth so try not to leave anything out this time."

"As soon as your food appears, I will explain everything. Twinkle!" a house elf appeared with a loud crack and awaited orders. "Will you please bring us some porridge and fruit? And, perhaps, some hot tea for our friend here."

"Of course, headmaster, sir," squeaked the tiny elf and he disappeared the same way he came: into thin air.

"Are you comfortable, Harry? Severus?" Dumbledore asked as he leaned back in the chair he was sitting in. Snape nodded as Harry propped himself up with pillows so he would be able to eat without straining himself. Twinkle reappeared with a tray of food and set it on Harry's lap. Realizing how hungry he was, Harry began to inhale his food but the stares from the two older men stopped him. Reminding himself that the food would not disappear, he slowly ate his porridge, taking small sips of the hot tea in between each bite to keep the slower pace. Snape and Dumbledore watched Harry eat for a few moments until Snape decided to get the show on the road.

"Well, Albus, are you going explain what is going on or will I be forced to make you speak?"

"Now, now, Severus," Dumbledore said quickly. "No need for anything hasty. Give me a few moments to gather my thoughts. Much of this you already know, Severus, but Harry needs the complete picture." They fell into silence once more and the only sound that could be heard was Harry's eating.

"Voldemort is looking for you, Harry," Snape and Harry sighed simultaneously with an expression that said, _duh._ "But, that should be no surprise. On the other hand, the fact that he was able to send some of his followers to your exact location to capture you is troublesome. It means that someone leaked the information to him. No one was supposed to know your specific whereabouts, although we could not hide that you were living with your relatives. It also means that the blood protection only covers the property itself, something I was – thankfully – unable to test until now. However, given the circumstances of your family, I would not even consider putting you with them unless you asked me to. Unfortunately, students are not allowed to remain inside the castle over the summer holiday, so if you do not wish to return to Privet Drive, we must find a suitable guardian for you.

If the only concern were your relatives, there would be little trouble arranging a temporary residence for you. However, there is also the matter of the ministry. The minister seems thoroughly determined to discredit the two of us using propaganda. If you have seen the newspaper this summer, that would have been made perfectly clear. They have been printing some rather derogatory remarks in the _Daily Prophet_. Fudge is obviously using any means necessary to keep the public from listening to our pleas to prepare for the fight against Voldemort. He has also been demanding that I arrange a meeting between the two of you. I am worried that he may try to blame Cedric's death on you."

"What?" Harry exclaimed, his porridge forgotten. "Why would they do that? What's the point? I thought I was their light in the darkness, their precious savior," Dante spat the last word out, utterly disgusted with the title. He took a savage swig of his tea.

"The minister, I believe, thinks that if you are not restrained, he will have another dark lord on his hands if you defeat Voldemort." Harry opened his mouth for another outburst, but Dumbledore spoke first. "I know; it's absolutely ridiculous. I have tried my best to steer him away from those thoughts, but alas, he no longer respects me the way he once did. Power has corrupted him. He will not risk turning the public against him by acknowledging the truth of Voldemort's return. He is too fond of his power, not to mention his wealthy and respected supporter, Lucius Malfoy. Once the minister learns that you have disappeared from your relative's house, he will surely come here and demand to see you. We must be ready. We cannot allow him to get his hands on you and risk your safety. If he were to ever take you into the ministry's custody, it would only be a matter of time before Voldemort got his hands on you."

"But what can I do?" Harry said, exhaustion in his voice. "Voldemort wants to kill me, the ministry wants to capture me, maybe even hand me over to Voldemort. I can't be myself anymore, can I? It's too dangerous to be Harry Potter." Dumbledore nodded his head.

"I am afraid that if you remain as you are, no good will come of it. If you and Severus are willing, I have a plan to hide you so well that no one will ever realize the truth."

"I think I understand, Albus," Severus said, a new light in his eyes.

"Yes, I wish for Harry to return to school this fall, not as Harry Potter, but as your son. We will hide him in plain sight in such a way that will guarantee your safety."

"I get it!" Harry said, wonder filling his voice. "No one would ever suspect that Professor Snape's son is really Harry Potter. We hate each other, and everyone knows that. No one would think we could pull it off. It's brilliant!"

"But what of his back story, Albus," Severus interrupted. "How will we explain Harry Potter's disappearance and my son's sudden appearance? It is too convenient, too coincidental. Someone is bound to notice."

"Yes, I have thought about that, and I believe that I have concocted a suitable back story for your son. Harry's mother was a half-blood. She left England when she found out about your service to Voldemort, but at that time she was already pregnant with Harry, though neither of you knew. She made you swear an oath not to tell anyone of your relationship. Therefore, you knew nothing of Harry until this past summer. She died in an automobile accident in the spring. Harry was with her, but he survived and was taken to a muggle hospital when he was found. Her will stated that I was to be contacted upon her death and to place Harry where I saw fit. At least, this is what Voldemort must think in order to save you both."

"And what about my disappearance?" Harry asked quietly. He was not sure what he thought about this "plan."

"Well, the solution for that was actually provided by you the other day."

"Me?" Harry asked in complete disbelief. "But I didn't do anything!"

"On the contrary," Dumbledore chuckled. "You provided me with five death eaters who will all testify under the influence of veritaserum that you released a magical outburst of energy. That is the last thing they will have remembered before falling unconscious. For all they know, you died in the backlash of magic. To say plainly, they have no idea what condition you are in right now. While it is normal for teenagers to have outbursts, they are never on the scale that yours was, so Lucius Malfoy will not recognize it for what it truly is: your body coming to terms with the amount of magic it can handle at your age." Harry was silent, something Dumbledore mistook for ignorance. "Forgive me, Harry, I forget, sometimes, that you have little or no knowledge of things that I take for granted for knowing. Has someone explained to you about the natural barriers your body creates to seal off excess magic until your body is capable of handling it?"

"Yes, I think I know," Harry said softly. "But I – I'm sorry, sir. You are going to think I'm crazy if I tell you this."

"I assure you, Harry, I will put off judgment until I have heard all that you have to say."

"Well, sir," Harry did not know where to begin. "I will try to explain as clearly as I can. The details are a bit difficult to remember. I had this dream, you see. And in it – I saw my mum and James. They seemed so real, sir. I could touch them.. and my mum," Harry closed his eyes, remembering. "She hugged me. But um – her and my, er, James explained that those barriers start to break down right about now and that NEWT classes are to help train us to control that extra magic. She said that my outbursts would be stronger because of the powers Voldemort transferred to me the night he tried to kill me. That was me who made it storm outside of the astronomy tower earlier. Is that correct, sir? Was that dream real? I have never heard of this part of a wizard's training, so if it's right, then she must have been real."

"Yes, all of that information is correct," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "And I believe that you really did speak to your mother and James. Those who have passed on have a curious way of making themselves heard from time to time. You are not crazy."

"Perhaps, Albus, this conversation might be saved for another time when Harry is not exhausted," Snape said, not ready to hear about Lily at the moment. "Please continue explaining what you propose to do with the captured Death Eaters."

"Quite right, Severus," Dumbledore said. "As I was saying, Lucius Malfoy and his companions will not have recognized that magical outburst for what it truly was. They will think that you were seriously injured or possibly dead. Even if they do recognize it, they will certainly not believe that you came out of the fight unscathed while he and his cohorts were injured. Therein lies the path that we must take. We will let them believe that you suffered enormous injury to your person and are in a magically induced coma. I have obviously removed you from England for your safekeeping. That is all anyone, including the Order, will know."

"If the Dark Lord were to ask of Harry's whereabouts, I can tell him just that," Severus said, relieved. "Even if there is a spy in the staff or the Order, as I suspect there is, then the Dark Lord can have no reason to believe that I would know. This also solves my son's sudden appearance. What of his schooling? It would be too obvious if he were to be in fifth year. I would say to place him in the sixth year, but we have no record of OWL's and no time to fabricate results."

"Please don't make me go through my fourth year again," Harry pleaded. "I don't exactly look 14 anymore and I do not want to be bored beyond belief by sitting through the same material again."

"I have thought of that," Dumbledore said, holding back a chuckle. "You are sixteen, but could not take your OWL's due to the accident. Because muggle authorities found you and placed you in a muggle hospital, your recovery took much longer than it should have. You missed not only the exams, but also the last three months of your education. Placing you in the fifth year will be no problem with that explanation and it saves us the trouble of fabricating non-existent results. And, as I am headmaster, we do not need to come up with a previous school or marks. I will simply say that they are confidential. Fortunately, the ministry has no control over that."

"Do you think I look old enough for sixteen?" Both men looked at him critically. Harry blushed.

"Yes, I believe so," Dumbledore said, smiling. "You will, at least, have the height of a sixteen year old, if nothing else."

"Finally, I don't look like a child!" Harry exclaimed. Dumbledore chuckled while Snape looked… exasperated? It was an odd but carefree expression and Harry almost laughed out loud. He was unused to see Snape looking so normal. "Oh gods. What will I tell Ron and Hermione? They will never believe any of this."

"I'm afraid, Harry, that you cannot tell anyone of this."

"But, they are my best friends!" Harry half cried. "I have to tell them. How else will they know that I am safe?"

"And what if the ministry questions them about your whereabouts? Or one of Voldemort's men manages to capture them? They will be one of the first people anyone will suspect of knowing where you are. Think. If the son of Severus Snape were seen becoming fast friends with Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, it would draw suspicion on you. You would put them and yourself at extreme risk."

"So, that means I will have to start over," Harry said slowly. "I am walking into this with nothing."

"You would not be alone," Snape said. "Trust me when I say that I will try to help you. And, I am sure that in time you will become friends with them once more, as long as you are not in Slytherin."

"No, you are wrong," Harry said sadly. "Hermione, perhaps, but never Ron. I know him too well to think otherwise. He harbors too much dislike towards you. He is just as prejudiced towards the Slytherins as that house is towards the Gryffindors. He forgets of people like Peter Pettigrew and you who go against those idiotic stereotypes. I will not be able to gain his friendship as your son."

"Harry, Severus," Dumbledore interrupted, a serious expression on his face. "I have said all of this as though you have already agreed to it. However, I will ask you now what you would like to do. I know what I believe to be the safest route, but I also do not want to make your decision for you. You must agree to it willingly or you will never be able to pull it off convincingly. You must be ready to put aside your past and work towards understanding one another.

Harry, if you decide not to do this, I can reapply the charms to give you your old appearance back. You will not have to return to your aunt and uncle's home unless you ask it of me. I will send you to live at the headquarters for the Order. That is the safest place outside of Hogwarts, and the ministry need not know where you are. You will enter school this fall as though nothing has changed. However, you will have to abide by very strict rules this year, rules that cannot be broken under any circumstance so that we do not give the ministry any opportunity to take you away.

If you agree to the plan I have laid out, there is no going back. You must keep this charade up until Voldemort is gone, or you and Severus will be at great risk. Not only would he discover your whereabouts, but he would also learn that Severus is a spy. Severus knows the fate of the man who is found to be a traitor in Voldemort's circle," Severus flinched violently, a faraway and haunted look in his eyes. "Not only will Voldemort kill him in the slowest way possible, but it will also give him an even stronger reason to hunt you down and kill you as well."

Dumbledore paused, letting his words sink in Harry's mind. It was difficult for someone like him to let Harry decide what he wanted to do in this matter, but he knew it was the right choice. He wanted the two men to trust him and this was the first step.

"Now," he continued. "I will not make you decide tonight. You should "sleep on it" as the muggles say and discuss it with each other."

"I'll do it," Harry said, suddenly bold. "I don't need to think it over. If you think that the best course of action is to put Harry Potter into hiding, then I will do it."

"Harry," Dumbledore said. "I do not want you to think you must do anything just because I want you to do it, or I think it is best. This is your life and you will live with the consequences of either path. I do not want you to be hasty in this decision."

"I understand, sir," Harry said, a fierce light in his eyes. "I trust you, professor, both of you. I know this will be very difficult, but I don't want to do this just to survive. I want to see if I can find a family in this war as well. I have lost too much already and I'm not going to risk losing another father before I get the chance to know him. Most of all, I don't want to live a lie anymore. But I understand, sir," he nodded towards Snape, "if you do not wish to do this. If you don't want to do this then of course I will respect that decision."

Snape stared at Harry, at his son. How old was this boy? He had been asking himself this question for a while now. How could he have missed this brave, intelligent, honorable young man sitting in front of him? He had seriously misjudged Harry.

"I too, know my course," he said. "If Mr. Po – _Harry_" he corrected with a smirk. "If Harry is willing to do this, I do not need any more time to consider the question. I know that we have had our struggles, Albus, but I am willing to put that aside and make this masquerade work. I actually think it to be one of your more brilliant plans. And – and I too, would like to find a family in the midst of this war." Harry smiled at him with such a joyous expression that Snape felt confident he had made the correct choice. Albus had been right, if he just gave the boy a chance, he would see that Harry has the amazing capacity to love and accept those who society rejects. The boy was truly remarkable.

"Thank you," Dumbledore said. Snape and Harry were surprised to hear that the voice sounds slightly choked up. "I appreciate your confidence in me. If you are sure that this is what you want, then I see no point in keeping the two of you up any longer. Harry, I am sure that you are exhausted and could use some more rest."

"What about his name, Albus?" Snape asked. "Surely he cannot go by 'Harry Snape.' That sounds absolutely ridiculous, not to mention a dead giveaway."

"Dante Alexander Snape," Harry said, closing his eyes. Snape stared at him, eyes wide. "That's what my mum called me. She said that the headmaster has my birth certificate."

"Indeed, I have that in my possession," Dumbledore smiled at him. "I will return it to you tomorrow morning. I will leave you two alone now. Try to get some sleep. You both have a long month ahead of you." The headmaster stood from the chair and walked out of the hospital ward, his eyes twinkling madly. Snape and Harry simply stared at each other in silence for some moments until finally:

"I remember," Snape said with emotion. Harry did not dare speak. "I remember the conversation Lily and I had about what we would name our first child. I had wanted to give you a family name, Devante, but Lily hated it. She thought it sounded far too formal, so she suggested Dante. At first I thought she had just shortened the name Devante, but then she explained her choice." Snape paused, lost in his memory that was just resurfacing.

"Wasn't Dante that muggle author who wrote about hell?" Harry asked curiously. "Aunt Petunia used to quote him whenever I did something wrong. She would describe all sorts of punishments that awaited me in hell for being an ungrateful burden. I'm sure the author was Dante." Harry said all of this in a nonchalant tone, as though the words had not affected him, but Snape was not fooled. He could see in the slight shifting of Harry's eyes that the words had hurt him deeply.

"That cold-hearted bitch. She said that to you when she had raised that whale of a son?" Snape stopped and breathed deeply, trying to suppress his anger. "Yes, you are correct. That was one of Lily's favorite authors. Dante Alighieri. When I asked her what she would name a child that, she laughed and said that if we ever had a son he would have to go through hell before he ever reached _paradiso_, given our situation." Snape looked at Harry. "She was more correct than she could ever have imagined."

"If you like, sir," Harry suggested. "We can have my full name be Devante Alexander, but I can just go by Dante. It would not be suspicious at all. I think it would be appropriate."

"Yes, I think that is a fine idea, and I think your mother would agree," Snape said. "I will inform the headmaster. It should not be too difficult to change the birth certificate. No one besides him has seen it, I'm sure. Although, now that I think about it, I cannot think why your middle name should be Alexander, unless…" he stopped to think. "Of course, the healer. They must have named you after her. I'm guessing it was she who delivered you and kept you out of the public until they could apply the appropriate appearance charms."

"Who are you talking about, sir?" Harry asked politely. He was completely lost now, and he suspected Snape was talking to himself more than to Harry. Snape looked at him, and Harry clarified. "The healer, sir? Who is the healer?"

"Oh, yes. That would be Healer Daine Alexander. She works for St. Mungo's," knowing that Harry would not be satisfied with such a short answer, he added, "She is one of Professor Dumbledore's oldest friends. She was his student once, over sixty years ago. She was a favorite of his, being particularly skilled in Transfiguration, which is the subject he taught before become headmaster. Any time someone has needed treatment in the utmost secrecy, Dumbledore brings them to her. She has treated me on a number of occasions. Lily was very fond of her, especially since she herself had wanted to become a healer. Healer Alexander is one of the best in the field and Lily hoped to arrange an apprenticeship with her."

"Will I ever get to meet her? I would like to thank her."

"I am sure that in time your paths will cross," Snape stood up and brushed non-existent dust off of his robes. "I will be back in a moment." He left in the direction of Madam Pomfrey's office, leaving Harry alone for a moment.

Was he ready for this? What would this next month hold for both of them? Good lord, some nice words and a few civil conversations and he had agreed to disguise himself as the man's son! Well, he would not really be disguised, per se, but no one would know the truth outside the four people currently in the castle. Harry wondered if he was prepared for the secrecy that would surround the entire situation. Footsteps rang across the ward announcing Snape's return. He carried a goblet in his hand and Harry immediately knew what it was.

"A dreamless sleep potion is in order," Snape said as he set the goblet down on the bedside table. "I know it may be early for you, but Poppy said that you will be rather tired for a few days. If you pass her check up tomorrow morning, you may move into my quarters if you desire. Or, you may stay here," he smirked. "But, I believe that you know better than most what a bear Poppy can be over her patients. It is your choice and you may tell me in the morning. I have also informed her of the circumstances concerning your name in case we have any unexpected visitors in the ward."

Snape turned to go when a quiet voice stopped him.

"Thank you, sir."

"There is no need to thank me, Harry," Snape said and then frowned. "And I think we need to come up with something else for you to call me besides 'sir.' It hardly seems appropriate."

"I – I'm sorry, sir – professor. I don't think I can call you 'father' just yet. Not that I don't want to!" he added hastily. "I just need time to get used to – to everything."

"I understand, Harry," Snape took pity on the young man. "Why don't you call me Severus? I think that is a suitable compromise." Harry's eyes bugged out. "If you have any better ideas, by all means, tell me. However, if that includes addressing me as 'greasy git' or 'bat in the dungeons,' please think again."

"I would never – that's so rude!" Harry spluttered and then studied the man's expression. "Are you _teasing_ me?"

"Contrary to popular belief, I do have a heart that does more than blood and oxygen circulation. Besides, I know exactly what students call me when they think I am not listening, Harry."

"Dante, sir – Severus."

"Excuse me?" Snape asked politely, although he was very pleased that the child had called him by his first name so quickly. It sounded much better than the overly polite 'sir.'

"You shouldn't call me Harry anymore," he replied, smiling. "We both need to get used to calling me Dante so neither of us slips up when the staff and students arrive." Grabbing the goblet from the table, the boy who was no longer a Potter lifted it in mock salute towards the professor. With no further fuss, he downed the potion in one gulp. Struggling, he placed the goblet back on the bedside table and leaned back, his eyelids heavy. "Good night, Severus," he said, although he was not sure if the man heard him. He could barely hear himself.

"Good night, Dante," Severus said, also unsure if the boy could hear him. The boy in question, however, smiled slightly before drifting off into a dreamless sleep. Severus cast a concealing charm to cover up the lighting bolt scar. It would hold until they figured out something more permanent. He adjusted the pillows and covers on the bed. It was to make the child more comfortable, Severus told himself, but he could not help feeling that parental instinct was kicking in. Considering the idea utterly preposterous, he turned on his heel and swept out of the hospital ward, determined to make good use of the time before his son woke up the next morning. He had work to do.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

(A/N: from here on out, I'm going to refer to Harry as Dante, and Snape as Severus. It will be less confusing for me that way)

When Dante awoke the next morning, he was surprised at how refreshed he felt. Well, sleeping for the majority of two or three days would do that to a person. Out of habit, he felt around for his glasses on the table before remembering that he no longer needed them. That was definitely a perk of this whole transformation thing. Being dependent on glasses could cost him his life in a dangerous situation if he were to lose them. Besides, they were a complete giveaway. The glasses were almost as trademark of Harry Potter as his scar was.

He sat up slowly just in case quick movement would disorient him. He did not want another episode of yesterday's falling off the bed. That would be embarrassing. Looking around the ward, he wondered if Madam Pomfrey would be mad if he got out of bed to stretch his legs. Dante threw off the covers, then replaced them, deciding it was not worth the risk of incurring her wrath. He flattened his hair against his forehead, wishing he knew a concealment charm. He grabbed the mirror that was still there from yesterday. Examining his feature, he was shocked to find that his scar was not visible. Who had hid it? It had to have been the professor. He would have to thank him again as soon as he saw him. The loss of the scar completely changed his appearance.

"Who might you be, young man?"

The familiar Scottish lilt put Dante into a complete state of panic for a few moments. He knew that his eyes were big as he stared at the Transfiguration professor he was not supposed to have ever met. Dante looked at his lap and forced himself to take deep breaths to calm his heart rate. Looking up at Professor McGonagall once more he politely asked:

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm afraid we have not met yet. Are you a professor here?" Oh yes, Dante knew exactly how to sound innocent yet keep the correct pinch of curiosity and uncertainty. Surprised at his polite tone, the professor's strict features softened slightly.

"I am Professor McGonagall. I teach transfiguration at this institution. Now, may I ask again –" before she could get the rest of her sentence out, another voice interrupted her.

"Mr. Snape! Do not even think of getting out of that bed, young man until I have had a chance to check up on you!" Dante had never been more grateful for Madam Pomfrey's impeccable timing as she bustled out of her office and over to his bed. Thrusting a slightly steaming goblet into his hand, Madam Pomfrey watched as he drank it without questioning her. He coughed and thumped his chest as it went down his throat.

"Wow, talk about a pick me up," he said, smiling at the healer. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. Shall I just sit here until you are finished?"

"Quite," she said shortly although Dante could see her trying to suppress a smile. She began waving her wand over his body. "Don't think that your charming smile will get you any favors from me. Many a student has already tried and failed spectacularly." Still muttering charms in between her sentences, Dante sat in silence and waited patiently for her to finish. "There, that should be all for now. Your vitals look good, but you will still need plenty of rest for a few days. When Severus returns, you may leave. If I hear of you over exerting yourself, young man, I will have you back in this bed and tie you down for a week!"

"I would never think to go against your express orders, Madam Pomfrey," Dante said smoothly, enjoying the playful banter. "Besides, I think that Severus would tie me here himself if he thought I was over exerting myself."

"Quite," she repeated. "He doesn't look it, but that man has a protective streak just waiting to come out. Mark my words, boy, he will certainly be strict with you as far as your health goes."

"Pardon me," Dante and Madam Pomfrey both turned to look at the woman they had completely forgotten about. Professor McGonagall looked back and forth between them, trying to figure out the piece of information she was not privy to. "Are you a distant relation of Severus? I did not know he had any living relatives left." Dante stared at her. He was not ready to begin the lies and deceit, not yet. Luckily, Madam Pomfrey saved him again.

"Please, Minerva," she laughed. "Don't tell me you can't see the resemblance between the two of them!"

"Forgive me, I just did not think that a distant relation would bear such a resemblance to Severus," She stopped, scrutinizing Dante. "You do look remarkably like him."

"Yes, well," Dante began, figuring he should speak up at some point. "That would be because I'm not a distant relation. I'm his son."

Dante expected shocked silence or stuttering disbelief. He was certainly not expecting laughter.

"My dear boy," McGonagall said, fighting to control her laughter. "I am too old for this kind of mockery. Everyone knows that Severus has never had a serious romantic interest, so for him to have sired a child is absolutely preposterous!"

"I assure you, ma'am," Dante said, quite annoyed, as Madam Pomfrey returned to her office. "Severus Snape is my father. He did not know about me until this past summer when my mother died. She kept me a complete secret to protect me from people who might use me." McGonagall stared at him, waiting for him to drop the serious look and shout, "Just kidding!" No such admission came.

"Good heavens," she looked at him closely. "You are telling the truth!" Dante sighed loudly, wondering if this was how every first encounter would go. "No, forgive me, child. I just didn't think that it was possible…" her next words surprised him greatly. "But how happy I am to know that you two have found each other after all these years. Out of anyone, he deserves to have a family. You will be attending school here, I presume? Oh, I have forgotten my manners. What is your name, child?"

"My name is Dante, ma'am, and yes, I will be a student here," he said, trying to remember what Dumbledore had constructed for his cover story. The details were hazy so Dante kept it as vague as possible. "I missed a bit of schooling and was unable to complete my OWL's last spring, so Professor Dumbledore and my – my father," he stumbled slightly over the word, "determined that I should begin in the fifth year this fall."

"I see," she said. "And what institution did you previously attend?"

Dante opened and closed his mouth, but could not think of an answer. Luckily, a voice (not Madam Pomfrey's) saved him from answering.

"He was privately tutored, Minerva," Severus' smooth voice calmed Dante instantly. "And before you ask, I am not at liberty to tell you whom. Trust me when I say that Dante is not incompetent. You may question him later about his knowledge, but now is not the time." He turned to his son. "Dante, has Madam Pomfrey checked up on you this morning?" Dante nodded, hoping to get out of the ward as soon as possible. "Very well, change into more appropriate attire and we shall leave."

He tossed a bundle towards Dante who caught it easily. All but flinging the covers off, Dante hurried behind the screen and discarded his hospital robe for real clothing. He was surprised to see that the clothes fit him near perfectly. Had Severus measured him? The mental image of the man with a tape measurer was laughable. While he was struggling with the button up shirt (this is why he stuck to jumpers and pull over shirts), he heard McGonagall asking more questions.

"Is the boy ill, Severus?"

"No, Minerva, he suffered a relapse from an injury he received last spring. He was healed in a muggle hospital and his leg has been giving him problems ever since. I asked Madam Pomfrey to take a look at him after he fell yesterday." Thank goodness for Sna – er – Severus. He wasn't a spy for nothing. Dante envied his ability to think quickly on his feet. Severus continued. "Why are you here, Minerva? Aren't you supposed to be at your niece's house?"

"Yes, I know I wasn't supposed to return for another two weeks, but I heard some news and it was too important to contact Albus by any means that could be intercepted." Dante stopped dressing to listen, then shook his head. He needed to get over this habit of eavesdropping. "Since you are here, perhaps you already know. My niece works for the ministry and she overheard someone say that Lucius Malfoy and some of his acquaintances have been missing for a few days. No one has heard anything from them. I became worried that they were on a mission for you-know-who, so I returned immediately to inform Albus."

"Well, perhaps I should not detain you any longer. I will let you talk to him. He should be in his office. The Dark Lord has not contacted me about this, so it is possible he does not know yet or it was he who has sent them on some sort of mission." Dante marveled at his ability to subtly evade saying whether or not he knew what McGonagall was talking about. He pulled on the robe and stepped out from behind the screen in time to see the older professor nodding towards Severus.

"Yes, Severus, I will go to him immediately," she looked at Dante. "Well, Mr. Snape, I am quite certain we will see each other soon. As I arrange the student's timetables, you and I should meet to determine what classes you will take. Good day, Severus." She walked out of the ward. Dante waited a few moments to be sure that they were alone before speaking.

"Thank you, Severus," he said gratefully. "I would have botched things up for certain if you hadn't arrived just then. She is very intimidating even when she doesn't want to be. Can we go now? No offense to Madam Pomfrey, but I really don't like to be in this place more than I have to. Where are we going?"

"One question at a time, Dante," Severus said, smirking at the boy's eagerness to leave the ward. "We will be going to my quarters, of course. I hope the dungeons are suitable to your taste?" he asked sarcastically as he opened the door to the ward.

"Trust me, sir, anywhere is better than here," Dante said in a stage whisper.

He followed Severus out of the wing and they walked in silence through the familiar corridors towards the dungeons. Dante was surprised to find that he could easily keep up with the professor and noticed that he was only a few inches shorter. This would take getting used to. As they passed the familiar stone wall that Dante knew led to the Slytherin common room, he smiled at the memory from Christmas of his second year. He had come a long way since that day. They took a left and walked along a corridor that Dante did not recognize although he was not shocked. He had never had any reason to spend exorbitant amounts of time down here until now. They stopped in front of a painting of a familiar looking man and it took Dante some moments to recognize him without the blood and chains.

"Is that, is that the Bloody Baron?" he asked incredulously.

"Of course it isn't. Don't you recognize the man?"

"Is this another dunderheaded student of yours, Severus?" the man in portrait sneered, looking Dante over with poorly hidden disdain. "Does Dumbledore force you to babysit even over the summer?" Dante wanted to rip the portrait to shreds in that moment, but decided instead to speak politely. The portrait did, after all, control who went in and out of Severus' quarters.

"Pardon my ignorance," he said without the faintest trace of sarcasm. "My education in important witches and wizards is severely lacking. I must ask for you forgiveness, I meant no insult. Would you honor me with your name, sir?"

"Hrm, I suppose you speak eloquently enough, boy," Dante tried to conceal the flinch at the word 'boy,' but Severus saw it and filed that piece of information away for later. "Since you obviously have no idea who I am, I shall enlighten you. I am Salazar Slytherin, boy, and you would do well to remember it." Dante's eyes widened.

"Salazar Slytherin!" he cried, only the name did not come out in English. A hissing sound escaped his lips instead. Slytherin looked at him in disbelief. Severus gave him a strange look. He had forgotten this particular talent of Dante.

"You speak the noble language of the snakes?" Slytherin asked in Parseltongue. "How is this possible?"

"Forgive me, sir," Dante replied smoothly. "You would have to ask Headmaster Dumbledore. I am not entirely certain of the details." Well, it was not a complete lie, but it was not the complete truth either. Dante figured that whatever answer Dumbledore could give Slytherin the portrait would have to live with it and Dante could avoid pestering questions.

"Hrm, well you speak the truth," Slytherin commented off handedly.

"How do you know?" Dante was curious. The man was a portrait for goodness sake!

"You cannot lie in Parseltongue, child, didn't you know?" Well, 'child' was better than 'boy.' The term was less abrasive, at least. "Go ahead, try and speak a lie."

"My name is – " Dante could not even get the beginning of a false name out of his mouth. No matter how hard he tried, he could not speak. It was as though his throat had closed up, like he was having an allergic reaction to something he had eaten. It was bizarre. It didn't hurt; he could still breathe somehow. He just could not speak a falsity.

"Now, Severus," the portrait had switched back to English. "Why didn't you tell me one of your students could converse in Parseltongue? I assume he is one of your house."

"Actually, he has not been sorted yet. I am sure that the headmaster will sort him with the first years once term starts in September."

"Is he not a student then, Severus?" Slytherin's gaze became more and more curious. "What is he doing here?"

"He is my son, Salazar."

"Ah, well he is obviously not a complete failure if _you_ sired him," If Slytherin was surprised that Severus had a son he did not show it. Dante was very grateful not to have to put up with incredulous questions from the portrait. "I look forward to hearing of his progress this year."

"I look forward to telling you, Salazar," Severus said, nodding his head towards the portrait. "May I enter?"

"They are your living quarters, Severus."

"That they may be," Severus smirked. "But I find that keeping you in good spirits is always the best course of action."

"As slippery as always, my young friend," Slytherin laughed. Dante was having trouble connecting this man with the snide character he had been not five minutes ago. This was too weird.

Instead of giving a password, Severus pressed his thumb to a spot on the left side of the portrait's frame.

"I will key you into the wards next time we leave. It is a beautiful system and full proof. Not even polyjuice potion can fool it. It is keyed to your magical signature, not just your thumbprint. Polyjuice can only imitate a person's features, not give him that person's magical capabilities."

The portrait swung open to admit them. As they walked in, Dante could not help but ask:

"Why is Salazar Slytherin the portrait that conceals the entrance? Isn't it a bit obvious?"

"Yes, I suppose you are correct," Severus conceded. "However, no one would ever think to try and break into my quarters with him guarding it. I could have changed the portrait, but I confess that I find it difficult to procure any sort of decent conversation with most of the staff. Speaking with him is quite refreshing." He paused before adding. "You handled him rather well. I was surprised. He can be a difficult painting to get along with."

"It probably helped that I speak Parseltongue," Dante admitted. "I think it must have been ages since he spoke it to a living person."

"Yes, you are probably correct," Severus nodded. "But you also returned his sneers with polite words. Most teenagers would have smarted back. You did not lose your head or wear your emotions on your sleeve like you normally do."

"Something I've been working on, I guess," Dante ran a hand through his hair. "Being hot headed and rushing into things isn't very smart, but it's all I've ever known, to be honest. Until I came here, I didn't really have any adults to turn to if I was in trouble. It's been hard to adjust to, as my years at Hogwarts have clearly shown."

Dante stopped speaking to look around the room. He immediately felt at home. While he had not given much thought to what Severus' quarters would look like, he certainly did not imagine the sight that met his eyes. The place did not look like it belonged in the dungeons at all except for the lack of windows, nor did it look like a carbon copy of the Slytherin common room.

The room was large and circular with stone walls, although Dante could hardly see them because curved bookcases covered almost every available space. Hundreds of books filled the shelves and Dante had the feeling that Severus had read them all. He admired the deep, rich, mahogany woods of the furniture. A deep green couch with matching high backed, winged chairs sat at the center of the room, angled towards the large fireplace the took up a decent portion of the wall. Dante looked down and saw hardwood flooring where flagstone should have been.

A sudden thought strayed into his head, a daydream he had indulged as a child but never dared to try. He remembered the hardwood floors in the Dursley's house and remembered how much he had longed to slide up and down the hallways like Dudley and Piers had when Aunt Petunia wasn't home. Dante did not want to risk Dudley tattling to his aunt so he never tried. Now, he was dying to slide across the room in his socks, but had the feeling that Severus would not approve. The mental image of Severus joining him in this tomfoolery had Dante snickering out loud. Unfortunately for him, Severus thought the laughter had been directed at him.

"Does my home amuse you, Dante?" he asked silkily. Dante immediately stopped. "Were you expecting something more grand or ornate? By all means, enlighten me with your wisdom."

"Erm – no, sir!" Dante said quickly. "I was just picturing what would happen if I decided to slide across the floor in my socks. In my imagination you were, er, not pleased."

"Hrm, yes, that would be an understatement, Dante," Severus said, but Dante thought he could see the side of his mouth twitching. "I ask you to please refrain from behaving like an idiot while you are in my quarters. I do not want to be left with irreparable damage because you decide you cannot help yourself but indulge in childish actions, thank you."

"Of course, not, sir."

"Severus. It is not proper for my son to call me sir."

"Of course, Severus. But it's also not proper for a son to call his father by his first name." he added cheekily. He wondered how much sass Severus would tolerate from him. He wondered if that last sentence had been a good idea. Too late now.

"Well then," Severus smiled evilly. "Perhaps you would like to call me 'daddy' or 'pa pa'? I assure you if you try that I will have you pickling flobberworms faster than you can get those obscene names out of your mouth."

"But, Severus," Dante protested, smiling widely. "You are far too scary to ever go by 'daddy.' I would never even dare to call you that. Anyone who addresses you as such should be checked in to St. Mungo's for complete insanity."

"Indeed. If you follow me, I will show you your room for the next month."

"We are staying in the castle?"

"Yes, that is what the headmaster recommends. Would you rather go elsewhere?"

"No, it's just that I thought students weren't allowed to stay in the castle during the summer. I thought it was against the rules."

"Yes, that would normally be the case. However, the immediate families of the staff are allowed to reside here with permission from the headmaster. As you have probably noticed, most of the staff are old enough to have fully grown children and therefore do not need to house them here." Oh. Dante had never thought about any of his professors having families, especially ones like McGonagall or Flitwick. They were so… old.

Severus led him through a door on the right hand side of the living space and down a short corridor. As they passed each door, he explained what was behind them.

"This door on the left leads to my private lab and storehouse. Do not go in there without my permission. I have many delicate experiments that could go off at any moment and I do not wish to see you in the hospital wing until after school starts… This here on the right is the bathroom. We will share it, so try not fill it with inane items or spend exorbitant amounts of time in there. If you do, I will have to… discourage your habits… This door leads to my room. As with the lab, do not go in there without my permission. In the case of an emergency, you may knock loudly. I am a light sleeper, so that should be sufficient to wake me up… And this is your room."

They had reached the door at the very end of the corridor. Severus found that he was tongue-tied and merely opened the door. Steeping aside, he allowed Dante to enter the room first.

The room was spacious, more spacious than Dante would have ever thought. At least three of his room at the Dursley's could fit into here. The walls were neither Slytherin green or Gryffindor red, but a deep blue – almost black. The floor was made from the same hardwood material as the living area, but was mostly covered by a dark golden brown rug. An enormous four poster bed in the far left corner dominated the room. A small table stood next to it with a bookcase on the other side. At the foot of the bed, a large bureau lined the wall. Another bookcase occupied the far right corner and Dante saw books filling three of the shelves. The final corner, to his immediate right, was filled with two (two!) desks and a chair on wheels so he could navigate back and forth with ease. All of the wood was the same mahogany color Dante had seen a few minutes ago. He stared at it all, unable to speak.

'If you don't like it, it's very easy to fix," Severus said, nervous to see his son's reaction. "I didn't know what you wanted, but I thought the transition would be easier if I prepared a room for you in advance."

"Is this all for me?" the quiet response said more than Severus could have thought. "It's _wonderful_, Severus." He walked up to the bookcase and ran his fingers along the shelves as he read the titles. They looked oddly familiar. Pulling one off, he opened up to the inside cover and sure enough, there was his name scrawled in black ink. "Hey, these are my books! Where did you get them? My trunk should have been in my room back at my aunt and uncle's house."

"I took the liberty of retrieving your belongings last night. Your trunk is currently under your bed. I made sure to comb through your old room. You certainly have odd hiding places. A loose floorboard underneath your bed?"

"Oh good, you found my photo album and my – erm."

"Yes, against my better judgment I have not withheld your invisibility cloak with the promise that if you use it for any mischief this year I will take it for the rest of the term."

"I suppose that's reasonable,"

"Damn straight, it is."

"Look, Severus," Dante said. "Really. Thank you. I don't think you know how much this means to me. I feel like it's the first place I can call my own, like a home of sorts." Severus did not know what to say. To put it lightly, he was not used to dealing with sentimental teenagers. As if Dante had read his mind, he said: "I'm sorry, I'm probably freaking you out about now. I just want you to know how much I appreciate what you've done for me."

"You are… welcome, Dante," Severus said gruffly. "Now, perhaps you would like something to eat? In your haste to leave the hospital wing, I'm sure you forewent such a cumbersome task of eating under Madam Pomfrey's hawk eyes. You must be starving."

They walked back into the living room and Dante mused on how much it was a reflection of Severus: simple but graceful. He saw a tray of food sitting on the table next to the couch and wondered when it had arrived. Severus must have asked for it without him noticing. Unsure of where to sit, Dante stood there in awkward silence. Thankfully, Severus noticed and motioned for him to sit in one of the chairs without commenting at Dante's uncertainty. Pulling the table closer to the chair, Dante leaned over to pick up a glass of what was hopefully pumpkin juice when the table grew taller. He glanced over at Severus who had his wand out.

"Thank you," Dante said. "How did you do that? I mean, I know you can make objects larger, but how did you only make the legs of the table grow taller without altering the rest of it?"

"I'll show you when you are not so distracted by hunger," Severus said as Dante's stomach protested loudly that it wanted food. Smiling, Dante picked up his spoon and ate his porridge ferociously. He was starving. When he finished, he put down his utensil and slouched back into the chair. A house elf appeared with a crack, grabbed his empty tray, and disappeared with another crack. Dante wondered how the elf knew to come at that exact moment, but his brain was too sluggish to ponder it for long.

"So, erm, what do we do now?" Dante asked after a minute of silence. What did someone do here over the summer? He knew Severus would not allow him to wander about the castle on his own. He did not want to attract any unwanted attention to his person, especially since McGonagall's unexpected arrival that morning. Other professors might return and Dante did not want to be caught off guard.

"You avoid the mad rush of procrastination the night before classes begin and work on your summer assignments." Dante eyes bugged out. "Is this a normal course of action for a parent to take?"

"I wouldn't know, si – Severus," Dante mumbled, then exclaimed, "Who do I look like, Hermione know-it-all-overachiever Granger? Honestly, only she works on her summer essays this early in hols. Besides, what's the difference if I wait another two weeks to start? That's plenty of time to finish."

"You would be surprised how much faster you readjust to school if you study just a little every day over break. No, don't look at me like that," Dante was staring at him like he was mental. "I'm not asking you to slave away at your studies, I'm only asking for thirty minutes to an hour of your day. Is that honestly unreasonable?"

"What about outside?" Dante burst. "Am I stuck in here, day in day out with no chance of fresh air or… flying?" That last idea occurred to him in that moment. He could _fly_ here with no chance of any muggle seeing him.

"I will propose a compromise, Dante," the boy looked at him skeptically, sure that this "compromise" would be in Severus' favor. "For every minute you spend on homework, I will give you a minute outside to engage in leisurely activities such as flying. I will ask the headmaster if he will allow you to study in the library if you so desire, otherwise you may work here or in your room. Occasionally, you may study outside, but only if you do not allow yourself to be distracted."

"That's… fair, I suppose. When do we start?"

"I do not see why now is not a good of a time as any," Severus was surprised to hear no protest from his son. Perhaps he could do this without royally botching everything. "If you apply yourself for the rest of the morning, you may have the afternoon outside doing whatever frivolous hobby you desire." Dante had to hold back a snort. Only the potions professor would refer to flying as a "frivolous hobby."

"OK, I'll go get my stuff and work out here."

He walked quickly to his room (his room!) and yanked his trunk from under his bed. Sifting trough his neatly arranged items, he paused. Normally, his trunk was in complete disarray with his books, clothing, and supplies tossed in helter skelter. Severus had not only retrieved his belongings, but he had put them in decent order. That man was being very confusing.

He pulled out his potions and charms textbooks along with his spare parchment when he noticed a rolled up piece smashed between a book and a spare trainer. Opening it, he recognized his own handwriting. This was the potions essay he had started that day at his relatives. He had completely forgotten about it until just now. The day that Severus recognized him seemed so long ago. His whole life had turned upside down in a matter of hours and he did not know what to think anymore.

Throwing his texts and spare parchment into his book bag, he slung it over his shoulder and stumbled back into the living room. These legs were going to take getting used to. He felt very gangly and wondered if he were taller than Ron now. The sudden thought of his soon-to-be former best friend sent another wave of sadness over him. Had he been too hasty in his decision? No, he told himself firmly. He did not want to continue living a lie out of fear of the unknown.

"Did you somehow smuggle alcohol into your system without my knowledge, or are you naturally that clumsy?" Severus smirked.

"Oh, shut up. I'm not used to being this tall and you very well know that!"

He dumped his bag on the ground next to the chair and pulled out his potions essay and textbook. He looked his assignment over to remind himself of what he had written. He paused and flicked his eyes up to see Severus, apparently absorbed in a thick tome. Deciding it was better not to interrupt, he smoothed out the crinkled parchment and wondered if he should just start over. Dante opened his book to the page discussing the usage of lovage in potions and his thoughts somehow strayed to his very first potions class where Severus had demanded to know the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane. Yes, things had certainly changed. He looked back and forth between his essay and the book but could not figure out anything else to write and his essay was still a few inches short. He slumped back into his chair, debating whether or not to ask for help. He did not want Severus to think he was just using the older man to get a decent grade on his essay. He had just decided that it would not hurt to ask the man for help when Severus himself spoke up.

"Are you going to sit there all day in a stupor, or are you going to ask me for help?" he inquired smoothly.

"I was just about to ask you, but I don't want you think I'm trying to cheat on my assignment or anything." Instead of responding verbally, Severus merely held out his hand for Dante's attempt at his essay ("Name four different potions that call for lovage and describe how different preparations of the ingredient could alter the potion."). Embarrassed, Dante handed his crinkled essay over to his father and waited nervously as the man read through it.

"It's absolute rubbish, I know, and it isn't long enough" he stammered when Severus lowered the essay and opened his mouth to say something. "I just couldn't find anything else in the text and I don't have any other books to look through, so I – "

"Will you let me speak?" Although Severus' voice was quiet, Dante immediately shut his mouth, flushing. "Before you began your incessant babbling, I was about to say that this draft is far superior to anything you have turned in to me before. If you had turned this in on a proper piece of parchment, it would have deserved nothing less than an EE. Of course, there are improvements to be made. Your handwriting, for instance, is atrocious, but the content is not rubbish at all."

"But it's not even the correct length and I basically copy information from the book!"

"That is why I would have given it an EE." Dante opened his mouth to protest again but Severus spoke first. "Listen to me carefully. When I assign an essay, I do not want you to simply write down everything you possibly know about the topic. I want a thoughtful, well researched and fleshed out exposition about the assigned question. While Miss Granger certainly provides information, she is too focused on fitting too much information into a single essay and strays from the proposed subject. That is why I have not given her an O on an essay. A cliché, I'm sure, but the quality, not the quantity of your words is what is important. An essay that receives an O is one that takes the presented information and goes beyond parroting it back. It often arrives at an unexpected or original conclusion. It demonstrates that the writer truly thought about the subject matter. Does that make sense?"

"I think so," Dante said, grabbing his essay back when Severus offered it.

"So name for me again the four potions you chose to write about."

"OK," Dante said, looking at his essay for another reminder. "Well, the obvious one would be a Befuddlement drought, because that's the first potion in the book that calls for lovage. Then there's the boil salve; the section in _1001 Herbs and Fungi_ mentioned that one. The last two I picked were the fever-reducing potion and Amortentia, the love potion."

"So why did you chose the fever-reducing potion and Amortentia? Did either text connect those potions with lovage?"

"Yeah, they were all mentioned in _1001 Herbs and Fungi_, but I'm not sure why."

"Open your text to that section and look at the various properties of lovage and tell me why you might want it in any of those four potions."

"OK," Dante opened to the correct page and skimmed the section. Thinking out loud he said, "Well, the book says that lovage was often used in muggle lore as an antiseptic, so… if that's true, then it would be a good addition to the boil salve." Severus nodded, giving Dante confidence to continue. "And, here it says that lovage can cause inflammation of the brain, so when you mix it into a Befuddlement drought or Amortentia, it probably inflames whatever part of the brain that deals with comprehension or love. That causes the drinker to act differently than he normally would, because his brain is stimulated in the wrong way."

"Very good," Severus said encouragingly. "And what about the fever-reducing potion?"

"Well," Dante looked at the passage again. What would help bring a fever down? He spotted it. "Here, the book says that lovage naturally causes perspiration, so it would be in a fever-reducing potion to help bring down the fever? That's why one of the side effects of the potion is sweating!"

"Yes, and those are the connections I am looking for. Adding that into your essay demonstrates that you are actively engaging with the text and what we are doing in class, as well as a commitment to learning." Severus paused, appraising his son. He had thought Dante to be rather hopeless at potions, but perhaps with the proper tutoring, he could perform well in the class. After all, Dante could not be the first Snape to besmirch the family name in the potions classroom. That would not do. "Now, your description of the various preparations of lovage is very detailed. There is little to change there. My suggestion is to go back and add in what you just told me. Try to write it legibly. If I cannot read it, I will not grade it."

"Wait, that's it?" Dante asked, confused. Surely, Severus had another critique for his essay.

"Yes, the essay is well written and shows me that when you apply yourself to your studies, you have the potential to be a great student. I think your grades have never been at the top because you spread yourself to thin and somehow get tangled up in whatever trouble is hounding the castle."

"Erm, thanks, Severus, but I don't think you are right about that." Dante murmured. Severus had never said anything nice about his in relation to his intelligence, much less praised him on his schoolwork. He did not know how to react to this new side of him.

"I do not exaggerate, Dante," Severus said seriously. "If I give praise to something, I do no do so lightly." Feeling embarrassed for some reason, Severus quickly changed the subject. "Now, why don't you put that essay aside and come back to it later. Grammatical mistakes are much easier to catch with a fresh eye."

Dante set his crumpled essay and potions text on the ground next to the chair and pulled out his charms textbook. His heart felt light, as though the large weight that had burdened him all summer had vanished with Severus' last words. Suddenly, the desire to please his father overwhelmed him. Bringing up his marks next year would be difficult without Hermione to help him, but he would work hard. He would prove Severus proud. He had to.

A/N: next chapter will hopefully be up in another two weeks


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Hey guys, I'm posting a brief timeline below as I realized that the story has only taken place over a few days, so here you go.

7/26: Dumbledore tells Snape that Harry is his son/Harry is attacked by DE/Harry is removed from the Dursleys (chapters 1-6)

7/27: Harry learns he is Snape's son/Astronomy tower/Dumbledore and Snape talk about Snape's confused emotions (chapter 7)

7/28: Harry and Snape quarrel/Harry's physical change/Harry decides to hide as Snape's son (end of chapter 7/chapter 8/half of chapter 9)

7/29: McGonagall returns/Dante moves into Severus' quarters/Severus helps him with his potions essay (second half of chapter 9). This chapter will cover the rest of this day and the next few days.

After this chapter, the days will pick up. Thanks to all my readers!

_Previously:_

_Suddenly, the desire to please his father overwhelmed him. Bringing up his marks next year would be difficult without Hermione to help him, but he would work hard. He would prove Severus proud. He had to._

Chapter 10: In which old faces return

That afternoon found Dante flying lazily around the quidditch field. It had been so long since he had flown and he wanted to savor every moment of it. Truly, nothing gave him more pleasure and exhilaration than flying. He loved the adrenaline rush of flying at break neck speed to catch the devious snitch and the slight drop of his stomach when he first took off from the ground, defying all muggle laws of gravity and logic. It was slightly awkward now because there was so much more of him. He had to get used to his longer arms and limbs even on his wonderful Firebolt. A thought struck him as he rounded one of the goals. If he did not inherit his flying skills from James, then he must have gotten them from Severus. He stole a glance to where Severus was sitting in the stands. Aside from the match against Hufflepuff in his first year, he could not think of a time when he had seen Severus on a broom, much less play quidditch. He would have to ask the man when he returned to the ground.

Deciding to do something a tad more thrilling, Dante took off in a dive, urging his broom towards its top speed. The ground closed in on his vision quickly. Just inches above the ground, Dante lifted his hands that were clasped around the top of the broom and he straightened out to fly parallel to the earth. Corkscrewing back up into the air, he gave a loud whoop of joy and turned back towards the stands. To his great surprise, Severus stood there with his wand out and pointed in his direction. Dante wondered what on earth the older man was doing. Then he spotted the headmaster making his way up into the stands towards Severus.

Dante ignored them and returned to flying in what most would call a "civilized" fashion. For him, it was rather boring, but still it was better than nothing. He knew he would cherish these times outdoors once he was stuck inside studying. Dante also knew that he would not be allowed to play quidditch this year. It would be too suspicious for someone with amazing quidditch skills to appear just as Harry Potter disappeared. The fact saddened Dante; he would desperately miss quidditch, but perhaps he could still fly on a weekend afternoon when the teams were absent from the pitch. He would have to ask Severus what he thought. He glanced at his watch and sighed. It was nearly time for dinner. Flying towards the spot where Dumbledore and Severus were standing, he grasped the top of the broom so he could stand on the back. He lightly leaped off his Firebolt and landed on the first row of the box. Dumbledore chuckled at his antics while Severus scowled not in hatred, but in disapproval.

"What was that hair-brained scheme just now? Were you trying to kill yourself in that unnatural dive or were you merely trying to make your hair look as windswept as it used to look?" Dante automatically raised a hand to pat his hair down over his forehead, but found that it was already calm. Dumbledore laughed again when Dante blushed and quickly lowered his hand and put it in his robe's pocket. Determined to turn the tables on his sarcastic father, Dante turned to his father.

"What's the matter, Severus?" Dante asked with a smirk. "Were you scared for my wellbeing? Are those parental instincts kicking in sooner than expected?"

"Now, Severus," Dumbledore spoke before Severus could offer another biting remark. "I am sure that Dante was in perfect control of his broomstick. This is not – after all – the first time he has performed a dive like that. If I recall, he made a similar move against the Hungarian Horntail last November. You did not seem so worried about his safety in that moment." Severus glared at the headmaster. "Forgive me, Severus, we are moving away from our previous subject."

"Dante," Severus addressed his son. "Tomorrow morning you will be meeting with Professor McGonagall to arrange your course schedule for this fall. You will obviously continue your core classes, but you need not take Divination or Care of Magical Creatures if you do not wish to do so. If, for instance, you wished to take Arithmancy, I could tutor you. I believe that you are intelligent enough to catch up on that past two years of material in a relatively short amount of time."

"And in light of the return of Voldemort," Dumbledore added, "I have asked Poppy if she and Severus would consent to teach an elective course in Healing that would only be available to third, fourth and fifth years. If the class is successful then we will look into providing an advanced class for the sixth and seventh years. You may talk with Poppy or Severus if you have any questions about the curriculum."

"OK, I'll think about it, sir. I don't think I want to waste my time in divination any longer." And, Dante thought to himself, without Ron to make up useless predictions, all the fun would be gone.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Dinner passed the same way that breakfast and lunch had and Dante found that he enjoyed the relative silence. Neither man felt the need to make conversation by inserting meaningless comments about the weather or the food. Once the house elves disappeared with the dishes, Severus spoke.

"You may spend your evenings however you like as long as you remain in my quarters or in the library. I would suggest applying yourself to your studies or to a book, but I know that may be asking too much for a teenage boy. Whatever you decide to do, do it quietly."

"Might I go to the library?" the questioned surprised both of them. "There are a few things I want to look up while I don't have anyone scrutinizing my every move."

"Of course. I have a book I wish to pick up and I will accompany you."

They left the dungeons and walked in comfortable silence up to the fourth floor. They passed a familiar room and Dante stopped to examine it. Peering inside the door, he saw that all the desks were pushed out of the center of the room. A sense of déjà vu struck him as he walked inside and automatically looked for an object that was not there. He had an eerie feeling that he had been there before, but it was an unused classroom, so that was impossible.

"Dante?" Severus' voice seemed distant, even though Dante felt that Severus was right behind him. "Why did you stop? Is something the matter?"

"It's strange," Dante spoke softly. "I feel like I've been here before and there should be something really important right over there. It feels like something out of a dream." He pointed to a spot near the back of the room. "I'm sorry, Severus," He laughed. "I must be out of my senses. I can't have been in this room before. I've never been in an unused classroom like this one. Can you imagine?" He turned to leave the classroom, but he could not shake the feeling that he was missing something.

They walked down the remainder of the corridor, turned left, and continued until they came to the large double doors that marked the library entrance. Surprisingly, they were open. Severus explained that since it was summer, there was no need to shut up the library at night "against nighttime wanderers such as your wonderful self," Severus added playfully. Dante ducked his head, torn between embarrassment and laughter. If his father knew just how often he roamed the corridors at night, he would probably ground Dante until he turned 40.

As they walked into the library, Dante could not help but glance up at the high-vaulted ceilings. He always felt so tiny and insignificant in the place. Before, it had been because of Hermione, always studying and obsessing over acquiring new knowledge, but now he thought it was something else entirely. How many books were in this place? He noticed that Severus had already wandered off, presumably to the potions section (not that Dante would know, given he had never opened a potion's text aside from his required text). Dante decided to lay claim to a study corner somewhere. He had a feeling that with no quidditch or Ron and Hermione, he would be spending most of his time studying. He was not looking forward to it, but he would have to fill his time somehow.

After weaving in and out of shelves for a good five minutes, Dante concluded that someone utterly insane had designed this library. Instead of having parallel rows of bookshelves like a nice, normal library, this one was a giant labyrinth. Dante could have found a Minotaur at this point and not have been surprised. He turned yet another corner and came to a stop. An angel choir and trumpet sounds could not have made his discovery more obvious.

"This is it," he muttered sarcastically. "Home, sweet home for the next two years." This nook could not be seen from the entrance, nor could you stumble upon it easily unless you were determined to unlock every secret corner of this library. Glancing around at the titles of the books, Dante grinned. They were all on the topics of Mesopotamian medicinal folklore and their culture's magical mythology. No one would bother him in this place. Perhaps he could convince Severus to teach him how to cast notice-me-not charms on the area so the other students would leave this place alone. Even Severus would not object to enhancing his learning environment in this way.

"Dante?" he could barely hear Severus' voice from this spot.

"Here!" he shouted, hoping that the older man would be able to hear him.

"Did you get lost already?" Severus' voice drew closer and Dante could imagine the smirk on his face.

"I thought we were going to the library, not adventuring to a labyrinth where I could get lost for days on end with no food or water. I will probably starve if you can't manage to find me in time." Sarcasm dripped from every word and Dante finally saw Severus poke his head around the corner. He had two books in his hand.

"What in Slytherin's name are doing you doing in the –" he examined the nearest texts, "Mesopotamian medicinal and religious magic section? I did not realize that Miss Granger's twisted desire to read every book in this room was contagious. Or is it a group effort now for the Golden trio?"

"Ha. Ha," Dante said. "You are _so_ funny. Really, I think I'm going to faint from laughing so hard and the resulting lack of oxygen to my brain. For your information, I was merely looking for a hideout – excuse me – a study space for the upcoming school year. Since I will probably be unwanted no matter what house I fall into, I would like to be prepared. I imagine that I will not have any desire to spend exorbitant amounts of time in the common room."

"Oh, and why, pray tell, would you be unwanted?"

"Well, my dear father," Dante smirked. "If I am in any house but Slytherin, they will hate me on principle, and if I am in Slytherin there's no way in nine hells that I'm spending more time than necessary in that snake den."

They both fell silent as though they just realized the normality of the conversation they were having. For the sixth or seventh time since finding out that Severus was his father, Dante wondered at how quickly the older man had transformed. He could see Severus struggle sometimes before his answers, as though fighting between his past and present self. Dante realized that trying to figure out his emotions must be incredibly difficult. The silence broke as Severus cleared his throat.

"Was there a particular book you were looking for, or simply a study space?"

"Um, no, actually," suddenly Dante felt awkward asking the question. "I wanted to look up more information on the properties of moonstones, but frankly I'm not quite sure where to look for a book on the subject. Somehow I don't think they were prevalent in Mesopotamia." He added to try and lighten the atmosphere.

"Hrm, no, they were not as far as I can recall," Severus said. "However, they were used as love amulets in Ancient Greece and Rome, and are quite popular as a potion ingredient in their powdered form. I can point out a book or two for you."

"Sure –" he paused as they left the section, wondering how to phrase his next thought. As they passed the Restricted Section, he ventured, "Also, I've been thinking a lot since that conversation with Professor Dumbledore. I really think that I should drop Divination, even if it is a joke class. Healing sounds rather useful and with my luck, I'll need every advantage possible."

"I believe that is a wise decision."

"You do?" Dante almost stopped short, but managed to keep moving.

"Yes. A war is brewing: it began back in your first year when the Dark Lord attempted to secure the Philosopher's Stone. You will face death again and again, whether you want to or not." They rounded an aisle, heading towards the west wing of the library. "You may even have to kill. I know that you would rather avoid it; you are too soft to kill without having some remorse."

"I can't kill Voldemort, you know," Dante said. "Everyone is looking to me to finish him off, but I won't be able to."

"No?" Severus did not sound confused, but intrigued. He stopped in front a range of particularly old and yellowed texts and began scanning the titles.

"Sounds strange, doesn't it?" Dante gave a dry laugh. "Voldemort tore you apart from my mum and then killed her and James. He's been trying to kill me ever since. Sirius went to Azkaban for 12 years and you've spent the last 16 a bitter man. I lost everyone. Aside from you, I have more reason than anyone else to seek revenge, but to tell you the truth, I'm scared. I'm afraid of what will happen if I go down that path."

"And what "path" would that be? Wouldn't most consider it justice? He's murdered hundreds." Severus pulled a book from the shelf and held it out to Dante. "If you killed him, no one would dare say that you should have let him live."

"It's still revenge, no matter how you dress it up. Who am I to decide his fate?" Dante shook his head as he accepted the tome. Severus looked at Dante for a few moments and the young man felt as if he were being scanned by an x-ray. Breaking eye-contact, Dante turned and began walking towards the front of the library. Severus quickly matched his pace. They left through the large, wooden doors and went back the way they had come.

Walking side by side in silence, Dante's mind whirled as he thought about the conversation he had just had. Severus had not shot him down. On the contrary, he seemed to find Dante's points valid, even if they had been said in bitterness.

"When will it end?"

"Excuse me?" It took Dante a few seconds to realize he had spoken the thought out loud. Feeling embarrassed, he continued his thought:

"It's like this enormous cycle of hurt and revenge. You thought that James Potter had made your school days a living hell and then returned the favor to his supposed son." Not pausing too long in case Severus reacted negatively to his statement, Dante pressed on. "Voldemort's muggle father abandoned him so he grew up in a terrible orphanage. Then he killed his father sixteen years later and began this stupid war on muggle-borns and muggles. After I somehow defeated him when I was a baby, his followers tortured Neville's parents for information. Now he lives with his grandmother who thinks he's all but a squib. Barty Crouch Jr. was thrown into Azkaban, destroying his father's career. When his father broke him out of prison, he put his son under the Imperius Curse only to find himself under it's influence last year. He was the key person in Voldemort's resurrection in June."

Dante stopped, his steam run out, and blushed at the knowledge of having babbled unnecessarily. Severus, however, did not make a snide remark, or even smirk. He stopped walking and grabbed Dante's shoulder, swinging his son around so they faced one another. He looked as serious as Dante had ever seen him.

"I'm not going to contradict you. Because neither of us came from the best of backgrounds, we have a deeper appreciation of life and a better knowledge of the consequences of evil. Believe me when I say that I know your fears of killing out of revenge. However, unless someone else kills the Dark Lord in the near future, you will inevitably come face-to-face with him again. You are destined to face him again not because you defeated him fourteen years ago, but because neither of you will rest until the other is dead. He will continue to hunt you down because his pride cannot afford him to do otherwise and you do not want anyone you care for to be used against you. It is not necessarily a fulfillment of vengeance, but a fight to survive."

"What if I can't kill him? Everyone expects me to defeat him but I don't think I have the strength to do it. I'm not even of age yet."

"It is always the strong that must carry the weak, and those who do not look for power that are the most capable of shouldering it."

"I'm tired of being strong. I want to worry about my grades and finding a girlfriend, not about some psychopath who wants revenge for failing to kill me. Why doesn't someone like Professor Dumbledore just finish him off already?"

"The headmaster must have his own reasons for not killing the Dark Lord, unless you think he enjoys seeing you suffer year after year?" Dante looked away and shook his head. "Professor Dumbledore will not always be around to save us. Someday, we all will have to learn how to defend ourselves without his help. Even so, he is not infallible. He may be the most powerful wizard alive, but as we have seen, he is subject to his own emotions. He still makes mistakes."

"I'm sorry, I must sound like a spoiled child right now." Dante looked at his feet.

"You have every right to feel frustrated and scared. It is _not_ a sign of weakness so do not let anyone tell you otherwise. However, you must also understand that you have to prepare yourself if you want to survive the next encounter with him. Every time you walk away unscathed, he becomes more desperate to kill you."

"Do you really think I can beat him?" Dante looked incredulous. "He has powers I can never understand. Every time I have faced him, sheer dumb luck and the sacrifices of others have saved me. I have no chance of surviving him on my own!"

"Who says that you will be alone in this?" Severus shook Dante's shoulder's lightly to make his point. "You have your friends who will support you. As much as it pains me to admit this, I must confess that Granger is the smartest student I have ever taught, and even that obnoxious Weasley has his merit at points. And do you honestly think that the headmaster would let you face down an evil that you have no hope of defeating, that _I_ would allow you to do so?"

"I don't want anyone else to die because of me!"

"Do you think that he will stop killing people just because you are dead, that myself or any of your friends would be spared because you no longer exist? No, Dante, this is much, much bigger than you or anyone else. He will not rest until every last possible source of resistance is put out, and even then he will live in constant paranoia of a possible up-rise. Although he is too conceited to think that anyone actually stands a chance of defeating him, he will want to have everyone living in so much fear that no one would even consider resistance."

"I think I understand, sir." Dante gave a wry smile.

"You must not give up hope. Once you do that, he has won." Severus lightly held Dante's shoulders before stepping back. The two began heading down towards the dungeons once more. They spent the rest of walk contemplating what the other had shared. It was not an awkward silence, but a comfortable one, something that both men were grateful for.

When they reached the entrance to the older man's quarters, Severus did not move to open the door. Instead he held out his hand.

"Dante, give me your hand for a moment. I'm going to key the wards to your fingerprint."

"What do I have to do?"

"I'm going to prick your finger. The wards are designed to recognize anyone of my blood. In the future, all you have to do is press your finger to this spot and the portrait will open. There is also an emergency password in case you are unable to physically touch the door for whatever reason. I hope you never have to use it, but with your luck, it will be needed within the first week of school."

"What is it?"

Severus did not answer the question as he pulled out a small knife from his robes and pricked Dante's finger. He gently squeezed it so that a drop of blood pooled at the top and he pressed the finger to the spot on the left side of the frame. The spot glowed a deep gold for a moment and then faded. Severus looked up.

"There, now the wards will recognize you. Go ahead, try it."

Dante touched his forefinger to what he now saw was a small indent in the frame. The portrait swung open just as it had for Severus earlier that morning. Severus walked in and Dante quickly followed, closing the portrait behind him.

"Well, I believe that I will turn in for the night. I am utterly exhausted and I am sure you are as well. Good night, Dante."

"Wait, Severus," Dante called out before Severus could leave. "What is the emergency password?"

"Lily."

Dante stood in silence as he watched his father enter his bedroom and disappear from sight. Suddenly too tired to stay up and look at his books, he too headed towards his room. It felt strange, yet exciting to call it _his_ room. He loved everything about it. He flicked off the light and turned on the lamp that sat on his nightstand. The room was bathed in a soft light.

Kicking his shoes off, he relished the feeling of his toes surfing through the lush carpet as he moved to open his trunk. He stifled a yawn before pulling on his pajamas and crawling into bed. An odd sensation filled him and he could not help but smile. It took him a few minutes to realize why he felt so happy.

For the first time in his life, he was looking forward to summer.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

When Dante awoke the next morning, he lay staring at the ceiling of his four-poster bed, trying to process the past few days: Severus rescuing him from his relatives, winding up in the castle, finding out that Severus was his father, and his sudden change of behavior towards him. He was afraid that he would wake up one morning and find out that it was all a dream. He was scared of what the future held, but he knew that Severus would be there to help him through whatever people threw their way. He dreaded all the lies, knowing that sooner or later, people would begin to suspect him. He just wanted to spend the rest of the summer forming some kind of stable relationship with Severus. If they could do that, they could face the coming year.

Looking at the clock on his bedside table, he saw that it was fairly early, not even eight. Yet, a sudden wave of energy hit him and his legs would not permit him to remain in bed any longer. He rolled out of the bed and onto the floor, hitting it with a light thud. He pushed himself onto his feet and threw on the robe he had tossed over the back of the chair the night before. Grabbing his essay, he headed into the living room and plopped backwards into the wing-backed chair. He perused his essay, checking for any grammatical errors. He was so engrossed that he did not hear his father approach. He felt a presence behind him and looked over his shoulder to find Severus looking at him with slight incredulity.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" Dante asked, hoping that the answer would be no. The last thing he wanted to do was start the day off by disturbing Severus from his sleep.

"No, I was in my lab working on Lupin's next batch of Wolfsbane as per the headmaster's request. It needs to rest for about 30 minutes. I find that working on potions early in the morning to be most economical to my time. Sleeping in this late feels like a crime. Are you working on an essay?"

"Yeah, just finishing up the one for your class. I think it's pretty good." Dante rolled it up. "So, erm, how do meals work here? Do we eat in the Great Hall or here or where?"

"When there is only the headmaster, Minerva, and Poppy, there is no reason to trek up to the hall for a meal. You may eat here with me or up in the library while Madam Pince is away. Once the rest of the staff returns we will take our meals with them in the hall. However, that should not be for another few weeks so we are safe from their useless prattling and needless questions until then."

"Thank goodness," Dante let out a small sigh of relief. "I don't think I'm ready to face the staff yet. I'm still worried about spending loads of time with Professor McGonagall figuring out my schedule for the fall. Do you think she will notice how similar I am to Harry, er, myself?"

"I'm not too sure, to be honest," Severus sat down. "For me, my relationship with you has changed so suddenly that you seem like two different people. I don't see you and immediately think you are up to trouble. However, I don't know how much time you have spent with Minerva, despite her favoritism towards you."

"Favoritism?" Dante said, confused. "But she is so strict! She took 150 points off during my first year for being out during the night."

"Yes, she is strict in many regards, but what about allowing you onto the team that same year when no first year had been on the team in over a century? Didn't she finance the purchase of the top of the line broom? What about your less than spectacular arrival your second year? Most students would have been suspended at the very least. And I will never forget the night that Pettigrew and Black disappeared and you and Miss Granger received no repercussions whatsoever for being out of bed after curfew."

"Yeah, I don't think I have ever seen you so mad, but for once you were right."

"About what?"

"I remember you shouting something about Sirius' escape having to do with me, but there I was safely locked in the hospital wing, so no one could blame anything on me."

"So what part did you play?"

"Well," Dante said, figuring that he couldn't get in trouble for it anymore. "Professor McGonagall had given Hermione a time-turner at the beginning of the year since she was taking every single class possible, but didn't have enough time to attend all her classes since they were at the same time. When Sirius was locked up, Dumbledore came in and told her to use it so we could save her."

"You mean to tell me that the headmaster told you to purposefully break the law, risking the entire time continuum, so that you could save Black?"

"Well, we also saved Buckbeak," Dante said. At Severus' inquisitive look, he added, "You know, Hagrid's hippogriff? The one that supposedly almost killed Draco Malfoy?"

"So you rescued the hippogriff and Black flew off on it into the distance," Severus scowled. "And no one ever found out?"

"Nope. Only Ron, Hermione, and Professor Dumbledore knew he was innocent, so no one else could find out or we would have been hauled in for questioning. The dementors would have kissed him right on the spot."

"Speaking of the dementors… perhaps you can tell me how hundreds of dementors suddenly decided not to kiss all of us when we were by the lake? The headmaster refused to even guess at how that happened when I asked him about it."

"Oh," Dante said, a blush creeping up. "Well, when the dementors had closed in on me and one was about to kiss me (this was before you regained consciousness), something drove them off and when I looked over the lake, I saw something galloping and I thought I saw my dad, erm, James beckoning a patronus. But I had actually seen my future self. I cast the patronus after Hermione and I had gone back in time."

"You cast a patronus that drove off over 300 hundred dementors who had closed in on Black?" Dante had never seen Severus look so shocked. "Who taught you that charm?"

"Lupin. After the first quidditch match, I was desperate to find a way to keep them from affecting me. I didn't want to have another near death experience." Dante paused, unsure if he should ask the question that just popped into his head. "Um, sir-Severus, um, can – can you do a patronus?" Silence greeted his question. Thinking he had made a mistake, Dante said quickly. "I'm sorry, that can be a really personal question, I didn't mean to pry."

"No, it's quite alright," Severus said quietly. "Yes, I can perform a patronus. Would you like to see it?" Dante nodded and Severus raised his wand. "_Expecto Patronum!_" White liquid mist burst from the wand and formed a doe, which proceeded to canter around the small living area. Dante stared in wonder. She was beautiful.

"It was your mother's patronus, and has been mine ever since I could form one." Dante did not need any further explanation. He understood at once. She was the only person Severus had ever truly loved and was thus his only happy memory.

"Thank you, Severus," Dante murmured. "So, um, what's for breakfast?"

The two sat at the small table in the corner and feasted on eggs, bangers and toast that a small, female house elf brought with a loud crack. Dante was grateful that it was not Dobby or Winky that had appeared. He wasn't sure if he could handle it yet. When they finished, Dante excused himself to his room in order to switch out his potions essay for some fresh parchment and his transfiguration texts. He brought it out and plopped himself down in the same chair he had occupied earlier that morning. Severus had disappeared again, probably to his lab once more to resume work on the Wolfsbane potion.

Pulling out his prompt, Dante scanned over it, nodding to himself. _Discuss the five major differences between the vanishing of animate and inanimate objects. Furthermore, create a hierarchy of animate objects (from easiest to most difficult to transfigure) and explain your choices. Please note that this will be at the core of the 5__th__ year curriculum._

The first part of the essay should not be too difficult, since they had started vanishing inanimate objects at the end of the previous year. Then again, if Dante was honest with himself, he had not really been paying as close attention to those lessons in part because he was excused from exams, but mostly because he was trying to figure out how to come out of the third task alive. While defense and charms came more naturally to him, Dante did not have Hermione's capabilities in transfiguration so he knew this would be an important essay. He pulled out his copy of _Intermediate Transfiguration_, assuming that since they had not gone through the entire book last year, he would be able to find all the information he needed in the later chapters. Opening up to chapter 17 ("An Introduction to Vanishing Animate Objects"), he settled down for the morning.

He looked up when he heard a door open and saw Severus exiting his lab with a corked flask in his hand. The potion looked as vile as it had the first time Dante had seen it two years ago in Lupin's office. He mentally chuckled at the memory. He had been utterly convinced that Severus tried to poison Lupin through the potion. Now, that would be the last thing he considered.

"Do you have to deliver that personally?" he asked, wondering if Severus ever left the castle during the summer.

"Yes, the Order has a meeting tomorrow night that I must attend. You are supposed to be gravely injured and I have to report the disappearances of Lucius Malfoy and the others."

"Where is he?"

"Lupin? He is technically staying at the Order's headquarters, but he spends most of his time among werewolves who have not determined their allegiance."

"What exactly is the Order?" Dante asked, feeling a bit stupid. "You and Professor Dumbledore keep mentioning it, but I don't understand. Is it some kind of organization?"

"The headmaster has not explained it to you?" Severus asked, frowning. "Well, the Order of the Phoenix is an organization that was founded by Professor Dumbledore during the first war against the Dark Lord. While the Dark Lord knows of its existence, he does not know who exactly is in it, which gives us the advantage this time around. Our mission is to recruit members who will help us to bring the Dark Lord down, preferably from the inside."

"And you are a spy, aren't you?" Dante said, understanding dawning on him. "That's what Professor Dumbledore asked you to do in the hospital wing after the third task, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"But –" Dante said, struggling to put words together. "Isn't – isn't that dangerous? What if Voldemort found out? He'll kill you!" Severus found himself feeling strangely light at Dante's concern.

"As I am a highly skilled Occlumens, the Dark Lord has not been able to discover my true allegiance."

"Occlu-what?" Dante asked. Sometimes he felt like Severus was a speaking a language where he could only understand half the words. It was frustrating.

"Occlumens, someone proficient in the art of Occlumency, which is the magical defense of the mind against foreign intrusion."

"Voldemort can read minds? Is that how he knows when someone is lying to him?"

"One cannot 'read someone's mind,' but yes, that is how the Dark Lord knows when he is being lied to. He is a skilled Legilimens, that is, he is able to observe memories and emotions in someone else's mind. The key to defending your mind is to detach yourself from emotions that can be linked to memories you wish to conceal."

"Can Professor Dumbledore do that?"

"Yes."

Well. That explained a lot.

"Do you have to be right there, or could some do that Legi-thingy over a long distance?" Dante wondered if this was the reason for his strange dreams last year.

"Eye contact and thus, close distance, is required for someone to perform Legilimency."

"Oh," Dante said, feeling slightly disappointed. He had been hoping for an answer that would solve his confusion. "I thought maybe this was the reason why I've dreamt about what Voldemort had done."

"What do you mean? You dream things about the Dark Lord as they happen?"

"Yeah, last summer I had a dream that Voldemort was with Wormtail, plotting how to kill me through the tournament, although I didn't realize it then," Dante wasn't sure how to phrase it any more delicately. "Then a few months ago, after Crouch Sr. appeared on the grounds, I dreamt that Voldemort had received word that Wormtail's blunder had been fixed because he was supposed to be keeping Crouch from leaving his house. And last week, I saw Voldemort talking with Lucius Malfoy about planning an attack on Azkaban to free his followers."

"I've never heard of anything like that before, and the Dark Lord, although extremely powerful, is still bound to the same rules as all Legilimens," Severus said thoughtfully. "If I had to guess, I would say that your scar somehow links you to the Dark Lord, but as to how you can see him, I have no idea."

"It's strange," Dante said with a sudden realization. "Last year, I saw him as though I was a fly on a wall, but the one last week," he paused to keep his voice from trembling. "I _was_ Voldemort. It was like I could see everything through his eyes and feel everything he was feeling. He was really happy."

"Perhaps we should begin Occlumency lessons in the evening. I don't like that this connection can cross such a large distance." A knock sounded at the entrance and both men turned towards the noise. "We will finish discussing this later." He quickly pointed his wand at Dante's forehead to conceal the scar and swept towards the entrance. Pushing it open, he revealed McGonagall dressed in emerald green robes, carrying scrolls of parchment and a quill.

"Forgive my intrusion, Severus, I hope that Albus did not neglect to inform you that I would be coming to set your son's course schedule for the year?"

"Yes, we spoke of it yesterday," he answered, moving aside. "Please, come in."

If McGonagall was at all startled by the sudden change in Severus' attitude, she did not give it away. She glided into the living area and sat herself on the couch facing Dante who had just returned to his essay. His transfiguration text was still out and open to the section on animate objects and his notes were sprawled around him. He panicked for half a moment that she might recognize his untidy scrawl but relaxes as she didn't appear to exam his notes too closely.

"I see Albus gave you your summer assignments." It was a statement, not a question, for which Dante was grateful because he didn't want to try and explain how he had all of his essay prompts when he wasn't supposed to have received them yet. Instead, he gave a sort of jerk of his head in acquiescence. "Which are you working on?"

"Transfiguration, ma'am," Dante said quietly, trying not to squirm. He wasn't supposed to know what subject she taught, so she could not have a reason to accuse him of trying to be pert.

"How are you finding the reading? Is it difficult?" she asked, her face indicating her interest in finding out how intelligent Severus' son was. He wondered if she didn't mention that she taught the subject so she would hear an honest answer.

"Well," Dante paused, not wanting to make a bad first impression. "transfiguration theory has always been difficult for me in the past, but to be honest, I have not put forth the effort I should have to master it. I'm afraid other subjects interested me too much. However," he added quickly, although her face betrayed none of her thoughts. "Now that I'm taking the time to study the material, it's actually really interesting. I just hope I'll have an easier time with it this year."

"With that attitude, I believe you will not have any problems with it and I look forward to seeing how you do with the material in my class," McGonagall said with a small smile. Dante put on a show of looking appropriately stunned.

"Oh, you teach transfiguration?"

"Yes, and if you are having trouble understanding the material, I hope you will come and see me before the year starts and we can work on it together. If you prefer a peer, there is a student in my house I can put you in touch with. She excels in theory and I believe you two would get along with each other quite nicely."

"Thank you, ma'am, I will certainly come and see you," Dante said, wishing he could tell Hermione that McGonagall had recommended her. She would have glowed with happiness.

"Very good then," she said before switching subjects. "Now, I recall you saying that you were unable to take your OWL's?" Dante nodded. "In that case, I should place you with our fifth years. I'm afraid that even if you were to test into a NEWT level class, Hogwarts requires a passing OWL in that subject to attend. For formality's sake, I must ask you to take a few exams to prove that you are capable of taking fifth year courses. Don't be alarmed," she added when Dante looked nervous at the mention of exams. "These are standard fourth year end of term exams. I'm sure you will be fine. Why don't we start with charms?"

For the next hour and a half, Dante answered questions about incantations, wand movements, potion's effects and ingredients. He also performed a number of charms, jinxes, hexes, and defense spells. Thankfully, he did not have to brew anything since McGonagall "trusted Severus' judgment in _that_ department." When they finished, she clapped her hands together.

"Well, I believe you will be just fine with our fifth year students. I have to say that your defense and charms skills are certainly more advanced that I would have thought. I think that your transfiguration skills will match soon enough, if you apply yourself." Dante dared not argue with such a formidable woman and told her as much. To his surprise, she gave a short laugh. "Well, Severus, he certainly inherited your tongue. Quite blunt, isn't he?"

"Now, all that's left is to choose your two electives. Had Severus told you which ones are available?" At his nod, she nodded as well. "I think it's safe to say that you would rather not take Divination or Muggle Studies?" Before he could respond, she continued. "Well then, that leaves Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, and our new course, Healing."

"I think I would like to take Healing," Dante said.

"Very well, that should be an excellent course and since we have had to cap it due to the nature of the class, it will be small. Now, for your second elective, how about something more intellectually challenging? Why not Arithmancy?" Dante opened his mouth to request Care of Magical Creatures, but McGonagall was already writing it down on her parchment. "Excellent, Hogwarts will be glad for another excellent student. You do know that your father was the top of his year as well? One of the more talented students I have taught. I certainly hope that you will be in Gryffindor house. Perhaps Miss Granger will finally have someone to compete with, don't you agree, Severus?"

"I think she will find herself fighting for the top spot of her year."

Dante openly stared at Severus. What on earth was his father thinking, saying something like that? He could never be as smart as Hermione. For one thing, she had a huge advantage, having read most of the library since first year, so she knew more spells than anyone else. Everything clicked with her in the classroom. Well, not everything. She didn't have that basic instinct that Dante had, but so far that only helped him with defense.

"Well, Severus, Mr. Snape, I will leave you to the rest of your day. I'm sure I will see you in the near future. If not, then tonight. Oh, and Severus, Albus would like to speak with the two of you in his office when you can spare a moment." At Severus' nod, she left their quarters and the portrait closed with a soft click.

"Well, thank goodness that was a formality and she didn't need to actually test me in everything," remarked, letting out the sigh of relief he had been holding in. "I thought that being your son would keep people from having unrealistic expectations of me."

"Is that not the case?"

"When I was the Boy-Who-Lived, everybody always looked at me with the expectation that I could save the world from anything. Now Professor McGonagall thinks I'll be really intelligent just because I'm your son. She thinks I'll keep up with Hermione! And you agreed with her! I'm not that smart! I've been just above average my whole time here."

"Well, considering that you spent most of your time playing quidditch and trying to solve mysteries, that doesn't come as an enormous surprise. Last year you dealt with trying to stay alive during the tournament, but you showed great promise, especially in the third task. Minerva told me about all those hours you spent practicing in an empty classroom for the third task. I believe that you can be a very good student without the pressure of your former identity hanging on you."

"Yeah, and it's not as if I can play quidditch next year. It would be way too obvious, even if I'm not in Gryffindor. I guess I'll have to enjoy the summer while I can," he said wistfully.

"Which reminds me, we need to disguise your possessions. Many of them are too recognizable. You should be able to alter the appearance of your Firebolt at least during the summer. No professor would look too closely at it. However, during the school year, you should probably keep it here on the off chance a housemate decides to examine it. However, I confess I am at a loss as to what to do about your wand. I'll need to talk to Albus."

"My wand? I'm more worried about my scar. In case you didn't know, it's sort of famous."

"Your scar we can disguise through a combination of magic and cosmetics. We will apply the cosmetics over your scar and then cast a concealing charm on top. If anyone tries to cancel concealing charms on you, you will have another layer of protection. Luckily for us, most magical cosmetics are spelled to resist revealing charms. We can thank female insecurity."

"I'm wearing _makeup_?" Dante asked, horrified. "My housemates will think I'm – well, they'll think I don't like women or something!"

"Dante, the idea is that you will be putting it on in complete secret, so I should hope that no one would see it in the first place."

"I suppose," he admitted, blushing. "But what if someone rifles through my things?"

"I'll show you how to charm your trunk against intruders. Even if anyone manages to unlock your trunk, which I highly doubt, they won't get much farther than that and you will know exactly who did it."

"How?"

"Trust me, you will know, and I won't say anything more than that."

The evil smirk told Dante everything.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

"Perhaps it is for the best that we are moving forward the way we are," Dante remarked an hour later as the two of them headed up towards Dumbledore's office. "Voldemort will be too pre-occupied looking for Harry Potter that he will turn his gaze away from Hogwarts at least for the time being. The sooner we defeat him, the better. I just want to know if I'm going to live to see my next birthday."

"If it comes down to a fight between you and the Dark Lord, you better be the one to walk away, because I refuse to bury my own son before he can bury me." Dante stopped walking and gave him such a look of alarm that Severus quickly added. "I'm sorry, these emotions are so confusing that words tumble out before I can stop them. I know that I care for you, because you are my son, but I know so little about you that the emotion of caring makes little sense. Perhaps it is more instinctual than real at this moment."

"Did I hear that correctly?" a familiar voice burst out. Dante and Severus looked around and spotted someone Dante had not expected to see so soon. Leaning against a suit of armor, Sirius Black held the most incredulous look on his face. It would have been comical if Dante hadn't suddenly felt his chest constrict with fear. What if he had overheard their conversation? His cover would be blown! It was too soon. It was much too soon.

"And may I ask, why are you lolling about the castle? Shouldn't you be holed up in your doghouse?" Severus snapped out. For a moment, Dante felt like recoiling from the tone until he remembered that it was not directed at him, but at his godfather.

"Oh, forgive me, Snivellus," Sirius spat out the name with contempt, ignoring the question. "I was just wondering how on earth you could get any woman to sleep with you, let alone have your child. Was it a love potion?"

_No!_ Dante wanted to yell. This could not be happening. This was his_ godfather_, someone who loved him, and here Sirius was mocking him, his father, and his mother. It was as if the man had become an entirely new person.

"Please, sir," Dante heard himself say, although he did not know what possessed him to speak. Both men ignored him.

"At least I was able to hold onto a woman, you idiotic animal. At least I didn't cheat on someone, causing her to run out on me."

"Did you force her to sleep with you? Was she confunded? We both know how versed you are in the dark arts; it would have been all too easy for you to seduce an unwilling woman. Where is she now? Did you kill her once she found out what you really were?"

"PLEASE!" Dante screamed, finally catching the two men's attention. "Please, sir, I don't even know who you are."

"Well, aren't you a well-trained, sniveling little servant." Sirius sneered at him. It looked wrong on his face. "Don't you recognize me, boy? I'm Sirius Black. I'm sure you've seen my wanted posters everywhere. Of course, I'm innocent, but your… father… never seemed too keen on informing Dumbledore of my innocence. He preferred to let me rot away in prison."

"As if you were ever innocent," Severus said, his eyes blazing. "Oh yes, an attempted murder under the guise of a prank. You are precious, aren't you, Black? I have told you and the headmaster time and again that the Dark Lord never revealed the identity of the Potter's spy in case of a traitor among his followers. I did not know until a year ago who really was to blame for their deaths."

"And I have told you time and again that I don't believe your little ruse. You hated James and wanted him dead for years. Everyone knew how the two of you were enemies. I bet you threw yourself a little party over his grave, although, you might have cried over Lily. Didn't you love her once in school? But James was always the better man and of course she came to her senses and chose him."

"You know nothing about what you speak, Black."

"Have I touched a nerve, Snivellus? Don't you want your son to know the truth about your school days? About how utterly friendless you were and what a laughing stock you were?"

Dante could not believe what he was seeing. He had known of the supposed rivalry between Severus and Sirius, but he had never dreamed that it was like this. It made him and Malfoy look like best mates frolicking through a field of wild flowers. He had to end this.

"Severus," Dante spoke quietly so that Sirius could not hear him and Severus turned to look at him, anger boiling under his skin. Dante knew it was not directed at him, but it still scared him. He tried not to betray his own anger with the situation. "Severus, please just leave him be." Severus let loose a snarl and Dante quickly grasped the older man's arm and spoke louder, trying to keep his voice from shaking with rage. "Don't stoop to his level and act like an immature dunderhead. The headmaster would want you two to get along. He's not worth it."

"Yeah, Snivellus," Black sneered. "Run away and hide behind your bastard son. You really are worthless. I don't know why anyone bothers with you, unless," he stopped and smiled as if he were remembering an inside joke. "I see, you didn't have to seduce anyone at all, I bet she was willing to spread her legs for anything male that walked on two legs. How much did you pay the whore to make her keep the child? Did she pretend to enjoy it when –"

"_Petrificus totalus!"_ Dante shouted out. Black's arms and legs snapped together as he toppled backwards, unable to move anything save for his eyes. Dante stalked over to the fallen man, fury radiating from his entire being. Severus stood, paralyzed, his brain not yet comprehending what had just taken place. Dante picked up Black's discarded wand and pointed both wands at him.

"You listen here, Black," Dante sneered, an almost identical replica of his father. Black stared back, trying to keep the fear from his eyes. "I don't care who you think you are, no one speaks to my father like that. He's probably saved your sorry ass more times than you would care to admit and constantly risks his life so that the headmaster can have a spy in the Order. Yes, Professor Dumbledore has explained some things to me, since I will be transferring to Hogwarts this fall and could potentially have a Dark Lord after me if he were to ever discover my father's betrayal." Dante paused to breathe deeply before he continued. He wanted to maim Sirius for what he had said.

"Now, here is what the rest of the summer will look like. You will leave my father alone. You will not yell immature insults at him that a five year old could have come up with, and you will never bring up my _dead_ mother again. My mother did what she had to do to protect me and I will not allow you to insult her and dishonor her memory or Severus' integrity. You will also stay the hell away from me. You don't know me, yet you pass judgment on me because of my father. I will not allow a prejudiced hypocrite to come through and ruin my summer because of a stupid grudge."

Dante threw Black's wand down next to him and turned to stomp back the other way past his father, who was still standing there in disbelief. As an afterthought, he turned around and yelled, "Don't worry, the curse will wear off soon enough. It will give you time to contemplate your idiocy if your brain has the capability to do so."

"Dante!"

He barely registered Severus calling out to him. He had never been so furious in his life, not even when he blew up Aunt Marge, and thank goodness he hadn't managed _that_ piece of magic just now. He was heading once again towards Dumbledore's office, only this time, he wanted to know why the man had allowed Sirius to roam the halls so freely. He had just rounded the corner and spotted the telltale gargoyle guarding the entrance when Severus caught up with him.

"Dante!" This time, Severus' voice cut through his haze of anger. Dante felt Severus grasp his arm. "Harry! Will you stop?"

"Don't call me by that name!" Dante hissed. "As we have just witnessed, anyone might be listening."

"Dante," Severus said again; this time Dante looked a bit ashamed. "What were you thinking, attacking Black like that? Not that I care if you injured him or not, but the Headmaster will not be pleased."

"Well then the Headmaster doesn't need to know what took place, now does he?" Dante countered. Severus looked unimpressed. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his feet looking incredibly interesting at that moment. "I was so angry at what he said about you and mum. He doesn't know anything!"

"No, he does not," Severus consented.

"Look, I don't want to talk about it, OK? I'm sorry I attacked him, but it doesn't matter anymore. It's not like I injured anything except his pride, which means it's highly unlikely he'll say anything to anyone. So, if he doesn't say anything to the headmaster, then why should I?"

"You do not understand Black as I do," Severus said carefully. "He will twist the events to look like the victim. That's how he and James got away with so much during their school years."

"What are you saying?" Dante said angrily, coming to Sirius' defense despite what just took place.

"I'm saying that you need to be careful if you cross him," Severus remained calm.

"Don't worry, Severus," Dante smirked. "If he says something to Professor Dumbledore, I'll be ready. Now, what's the password for ugly here?" The gargoyle in question seemed to snarl although it never moved.

"Ton-Tongue Toffee," Severus intoned and the gargoyle leaped to the side to admit them entrance to the winding staircase. Dante goggled at his father.

"Is there anything Professor Dumbledore _doesn't_ know about what goes on in this school?"

"You recognize that sweet?"

"Yeah," Dante said. "Fred and George."

He stopped, wondering if he was about to get them into trouble before school even started. They would not appreciate Severus confiscating all their hard work before they got a chance to use it on the student body.

"Well, with a name like that, I cannot say that I'm surprised. Despite their blatant disregard for school rules and the dignity of their fellow students, they are quite brilliant." Dante once again goggled. "Oh don't look at me like that. If they truly wanted to, they could be top students, although if you dare mention it, I will put you through the slimiest detention you can imagine." He knocked on the door. They heard a soft _enter_ from within and pushed open the door. Dumbledore was standing next to Fawkes' perch, petting the cooing phoenix.

"Severus, Dante," he smiled at them as he looked up. "Please, have a seat."

He sat down across from them behind his desk and reached for a tin.

"Lemon drop?" he inquired hopefully, holding the tin out between the two men.

"Erm, no thanks," Dante stammered, caught slightly off guard, his anger at the headmaster for letting Sirius into the castle had long since vanished. Severus shook his head in a firm negative.

"Hrm, pity," Dumbledore said, not sounding the least bit put out. "Forgive me for intruding on your free time, but I wanted to discuss what to do with your wand."

"Albus, it will be impossible to disguise, but it's too risky. That wand is too well known, especially to our enemies."

"Yes, that does pose a bit of a problem, doesn't it?"

"I think 'a bit of a problem' is an understatement, even for you, Albus."

"I say 'a bit' because I believe that I have a solution. Granted, it is only a hunch, so it is perfectly possible that it will not work."

"Albus, we all know that your hunches are always spot on."

"Goodness, Severus, are you paying me a compliment?"

"Er, headmaster?" Dante said, breaking up the conversation. "I don't wish to be rude, but what is your hunch, exactly?"

"Ah, yes, Dante, my hunch."

He stood up and moved around his desk. Instead of asking for Dante's wand like the young man thought he would, the headmaster moved towards his bookcase and pulled an inconspicuous little book onto its spine. Dante thought it an odd behavior but was pleasantly surprised to see a panel in the wall open. Reaching inside, Dumbledore pulled out a long, thin box and brought it back to his desk. Dante knew there must be a wand inside, and he could only think of one person whose wand Dumbledore would keep for all these years.

"Open it, Dante," he said, pushing it towards him.

With shaking hands, Dante pulled the box close and opened it. There, nestled in fine, padded silk, lay his mother's wand. He did not know how he recognized it until words pushed themselves through his mind, words from a time long ago when he had still been Harry Potter: _It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work._ Ollivander had told him this five years ago when he stepped into the shop to purchase a wand, and here it lay, still in perfect condition. Severus' breath hitched for a moment.

"Is that…"

"Yes."

"How do you know her wand will work for me?" he asked, not daring to pick it up. What if the wand did not respond to him? What if it lay there, cold and silent like his mother's body in her tomb?

"I believe that when your mother stood in between you and Voldemort, her wand also embodied that protection and became a powerful extension of her soul. I believe that this wand, like your mother, will do anything within its power to protect you. There is only one way to find out."

Dante stared at the wand, not wanting his hopes to be dashed. He loved his own holly wand with Fawkes' tail feather. It had brought him comfort to know that his wand had given him some protection against Voldemort, but now it was the one thing that could ruin all their plans. He closed his eyes in an attempt to calm his racing heart. As though magic directed his movements, his arm reached out to snatch the wand from its resting place. His eyes snapped open as he felt a sudden rush of warmth begin in the fingertips of his right hand and move up his arm until his whole body radiated with magic. Gold sparks shot out the end of the wand and floated around the circular office before gently fading away.

"Yes," Dumbledore said softly and Dante was surprised to see a tear running down his cheek. "Yes, I believe that will do quite nicely."

Severus remained silent, wishing that Lily could have been there to see this moment. She would have been proud of Dante and so happy that she could still protect him over thirteen years after her death.

"Dante," the young man looked at his father. "Be sure to keep your other wand on your person at all times. I don't ever want you to be caught off guard."

"Where will I keep it? It would be rather obvious if I had two wands poking out of my robes."

"We will find a holster for you at Diagon Alley when we go in a few weeks. For now when you are roaming the corridors by yourself just keep it fixed on your arm under your watchband." Dante did as Severus told him. It felt weird at first and he just hoped that it wouldn't affect his arm movement.

"Is there anything else you wished to discuss, headmaster?" Dante asked politely. He wanted to get to the library, but didn't want Dumbledore to think he was being rude by trying to escape.

"Yes, I wanted to know how your meeting with Professor McGonagall went."

"Oh. It went – erm – well I suppose." Dante watched Dumbledore pop a candy into his mouth and knew he would be there for a while.

"Elegant as always," Severus smirked.

"Are you going to rectify that by giving me speech lessons as well?" Dante shot back, praying that he wouldn't blush.

"If that is my cross to bear," Severus said with an exaggerated sigh.

"Gentlemen," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. Severus and Dante looked at each other, Dante's face a mask of pure innocence. The corner of Severus' mouth twitched and they both turned to gaze at the headmaster.

"You may begin your inquisition, Albus," Severus intoned with a sneer. Dumbledore chuckled but merely repeated his question, which Dante and Severus both answered. The conversation had just turned to Dante's choices (or lack thereof) of classes for the fall when they heard a harsh knock on the headmaster's door. Before Dumbledore could even open his mouth to say "Enter," the door burst open and Sirius entered, his tone enraged.

"Headmaster, do you know what that bastard son of a - " he stopped, only now seeing that the objects of his complaints were already present. Severus gave the man a sneer before turning back in his seat to face the headmaster. Dante merely sat where he was. He should have expected that Sirius would complain to Dumbledore on the off chance that his pride would hurt if he failed to seek retribution on his own. Dante had already proven that he was capable of defending himself when needed and Sirius would have to catch him sleeping to pull one over on him. So, instead, here Sirius was, hoping to get to Dumbledore first and paint himself the poor, unsuspecting victim who was assaulted by the nasty Death Eater and his impressionable son. Well, at least Dante was going to get his afternoon entertainment. Sirius had no idea who he was dealing with.

"Well, I suppose that they already gave you their version of what happened. I'll wager they made themselves out to be all innocent, didn't they?" Sirius said, clearly frustrated that the first part of his supposedly god-conceived plan had not worked out. Dante realized that he felt a smug pleasure knowing that Sirius was going to be highly disappointed with the result, and Dante didn't care in the least. Sirius had behaved so horridly, with almost no provocation, that it would take time for Dante to forgive him, and only if the older man ever dropped his pride long enough to apologize.

"And what, pray tell," Dumbledore asked, peering over his glasses, "are you referring to? I assure you that your name has not been brought up once today." Sirius scoffed, unwilling to believe that Severus wouldn't take advantage of an opportunity to get into the headmaster's good graces. "If you are so grieved over the affair, please enlighten me so we can resolve it." Now Sirius looked hesitant to do what he came for, but since no one could mistake Dumbledore's carefully masked command, he tried to speak confidently:

"Your precious professor and his... _son_ attacked me for no reason. Then that boy cursed me and threatened me with my own wand. Then, he left in the middle of the corridor where anything could have happened to me!" The longer he spoke, the more Sirius convinced himself that he was an innocent victim and his attackers would undoubtedly be punished. "Will you allow someone like that to just roam this school? He's unpredictable! Who knows who he could attack next?"

At this last pronouncement, Severus released a powerful laugh that reverberated around the circular office. Sirius spluttered, clearly offended that his complaints were being treated with such disdain. Dante, on the other hand, exerted all his willpower to contain his laughter both at Sirius' assertion, and the result. He could understand why Severus was amused and felt a sharp pang when he realized he could not join in, even if he wanted to. _Dante_ was not supposed to know anything about Sirius Black.

"And just what is so funny, Snape?" Severus' face became, if possible more comical at having to suffer the indignity of being laughed at by his enemy with absolutely no reproach from the headmaster. In fact, Dumbledore was trying to cover his twitching lips by delicately coughing.

"Forgive me for not being able to contain my amusement at the irony of your declaration. _My _son is unpredictable? If Dante can be described by you in such terms, than I have to wonder what you would label yourself?"

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Only that your time in Azkaban has clearly rattled your memory, or have you lost all recollection our school days together?"

"Are you referring to your eternal state of loserdom or your pathetic attempts to woo someone who would rather wear a blindfold around you than have to deal with your ugly mug?" Sirius shifted modes, having apparently forgotten that the headmaster was there.

"How about you putting your werewolf friend at risk so you could satisfy your need for revenge? Or how about you choosing to go after Pettigrew instead of going to the headmaster. I think that one landed you 12 years in prison. Shall we talk about how your sudden need to getting completely drunk broke my cousin's heart after she had spent day after day trying to prove to me that I was wrong about you?"

"How dare you!" Sirius shouted. "You know nothing about what happened!"

"Evie and I were like siblings," Severus said his voice quiet but harsh. "She told me everything and I concealed nothing from her. She saw you in bed with another woman, completely drunk, and you tried to tell her that it was a misunderstanding? What was there to misinterpret?"

"I told her I was drugged!" Sirius said, looking like he was going to throw a curse at Severus.

"Sirius, please calm yourself. Severus makes a valid point."

"Oh yes, of course you would take your precious spy's view of everything. You always do."

"That is extremely unfair of you," Dumbledore said calmly. "I believe after the "incident" I allowed you to stay at this school instead of expelling you as you deserved."

"Have I done nothing for your Order? I risked my life time after time to try and bring down Voldemort in the first war. And now I am housing your Order at my house! This is the first time I have been able to leave in weeks and what happens? I'm attacked!"

"You want Albus to trust you," Severus inserted. "Yet, you run your mouth off about a classified topic in front of someone you do not know. Yes, I believe that demonstrates your admiral qualities to the headmaster."

"And what did you do to make him trust you, little spy? No one believes you. We're all waiting for the day that you pull out your knife and stab us all in the back!"

"Enough! _Silencio_!" Dante shouted, pointing his wand at Sirius. Severus wisely did not comment. "Headmaster, as you probably know better than most, _this_ is but a taste of what I witnessed this morning. He overheard my father call me his son and proceeded to insult me, never having met me, and called Severus a Death Eater among other vile names. He then decided that wasn't enough and proclaimed my mother either a victim of rape or a desperate whore who was paid off. And of course, since he believes himself to be knowledgeable of everyone's situation in life, I'm obviously a bastard because no one told Mr. Black about my mother or myself. Imagine, to my surprise, I grew angry at the cheap insults. Not only that, but I could Severus getting ready to attack Mr. Black. Wanting to avoid an all out brawl worthy of a bar, I incapacitated him, took his wand, and told him that if he ever came near me again, I wouldn't hold back. Then Severus and I came directly to your office where we have been for the last hour."

Throughout Dante's entire speech, Sirius' face grew more and more red. As soon as Dante released him from the silencing spell, he shouted, "That's bloody nonsense! Headmaster, you cannot possibly believe him! He wants to make himself look like a saint and try and pin the entire thing on me!"

"Is what Dante said true?" Dumbledore gave him piercing look. "Did you call his mother a whore and him a bastard?" The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees with each passing word. Sirius was silent, trying to figure out where the conversation has turned on him and how he was going to get himself out of this. Dumbledore, however, was not going to help him out. "Well? The question only requires a yes or no for the answer."

"I -" he fell silent. "I was, I was provoked - tricked into saying -"

"Headmaster, I believe I have a way to solve this with relative ease," Dante surprised himself by speaking. All eyes turned to him: Dumbledore's curious, Severus' impassive, and Sirius' hateful. "Do you have a pensieve? Let me extract my memory and you may view it without having to worry about bias." Dumbledore's mouth twitched at the irony of the question and Sirius scowled.

"Albus, this is absurd. The boy will tamper with it to fit his account."

"How can you manipulate a memory? That's impossible!" Dante said, angry that Sirius would try and make up something so absurd to avoid blame.

"Actually, a memory can be altered," Dumbledore explained gently. "But it takes time and a powerful person to do so. And even if the memory was altered, Sirius," he turned his attention back to the fuming man, "don't you believe me capable enough to detect such a trick?" Sirius looked stricken.

"Headmaster, I didn't mean to imply -"

"Of course you didn't," Dumbledore said pointedly before turning to his potions master. "Severus, you have been rather quiet throughout most of this. Do you have anything to offer?" Severus looked at Dante and let out a sigh.

"I trust Dante's account as far as his actions are concerned. I am not afraid to admit that I traded a few insults when I could, but that it was only by Dante's desire to avoid conflict that I held back when I felt ready to throttle that man. When he insulted Janet... if Dante had not acted I cannot say what I would have done. It is true that Dante cast a body-binding curse on Black, but it was in order to keep me from doing something stupid. He does not know how to alter a memory, nor would he dishonor himself by attempting such a childish act. You can trust him." Dante beat down the smile that threatened to form. He did not deserve that kind of praise.

"Very well," Dumbledore spoke as Sirius opened him mouth to contradict Severus' words. "I will view the memory unless, Sirius, you change your mind and find Dante's account to be accurate?"

"Whatever I said was well deserved. I was provoked and I say again that I am innocent in all this."

"As you like it." Dumbledore walked over to a cabinet underneath the slumbering portrait of a former headmistress. She stirred slightly as Dumbledore opened the cabinet, and Dante felt a strong sense of déjà vu. The silvery light reflecting off all the metal surfaces in the office took him back to a time before all this secrecy, when things were simple. Well, simpler. His life had never been simple. Dumbledore pulled out the large stone basin, the runes catching Dante's eyes. Someday, he would have to ask the headmaster what they meant. Now was not the time.

"Dante, have you ever extracted a memory before?" Dumbledore asked, turning to the young man. Dante shook his head. "Well, it would have been surprising if you had, considering your past. Just follow my voice. Close your eyes." Dante did so, feeling a bit silly. "Concentrate on what happened earlier today; block out all other memories and concentrate. This can be difficult if you have never done it before."

Yes, it was difficult to put aside those few, cherished memories of him and Sirius that flashed before his eyes. Sirius asking him to come and live with him. Sirius' letters from last summer. Sirius sitting with him in this very office, gripping his shoulder as he told Dumbledore what took place between him and Voldemort. He pushed those away, knowing that he would never have that bond again.

"Do you have that memory?" Dante pulled it to the front and answered with a quiet affirmation. "Place your wand lightly at your temple. Imagine creating a string between that memory and your wand. Attach it securely. When you have done so, pull." He pulled and felt a strange tugging sensation, as though someone had stuck a tube into his head and was sucking something out of his brain. He had never felt anything like it.

"Dante, open your eyes." Severus' voice shot through the haze. Opening his eyes, he saw a silvery strand, almost like a piece of course hair, floating in front of him. He slowly lowered it into the basin and watched as it seemed to melt into the liquid. The liquid swirled.

"Perfect, Dante," The headmaster clapped his hands. "Now, Sirius, if you and Severus would join us, we can be done with this."

"Please, sir," Dante said. "I would rather not. May I just sit here and wait?"

"Don't want to face the truth?" Sirius sneered and Dumbledore silenced him with a look.

"Actually, I'm afraid I won't be able to control myself and I'll try to knock you out again. I figured that you would appreciate your nose the way it is."

"Dante," Severus said, but Dante knew that Severus would love to see Sirius frozen on his back with a broken nose as much as he did.

"Forgive me, father," Dante acquiesced, inclining his head to apologize. "I shall keep my thoughts to myself in the future." Severus' lips twitched. It was only for a moment, but Dante caught it and hid a smile himself.

"If we are all ready?" Dumbledore prompted. The enemies moved towards the pensieve. "Severus, if you please?" Severus touched his hand to the liquid was pulled in. Dumbledore followed, leaving Sirius alone with Dante. Sirius sneered at his godson, who merely stared back. He was still at a loss at how quickly his relationship with the older man had changed. A different face, a different name, and Dante went from receiving Sirius' looks of pride to looks of disgust.

"I look forward to our conversation afterwards," were his final words before diving in. Dante stared at the place he had just occupied, wondering why he was working so hard to keep a relationship alive that was doomed to fail. For the first time in over 11 years, Dante wished he could cry.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Ten minutes later, the three older men seeped out of the basin. The sight was almost exactly what Dante pictured it would be: Severus' face was impassive, although Dante could detect barely concealed rage and triumph; Sirius sulked and looked slightly frightened, which Dante did not understand until he saw the headmaster. Dumbledore's eyes radiated fury.

As Sirius and Severus sat down, Gayle merely stared at Sirius, his blue eyes boring into Sirius. His gaze then turned to Dante who allowed the headmaster to see the conflicting emotions of sorrow, anger, and resignation. Gayle opened his mouth then quickly shut it, not trusting himself to speak yet. Silence occupied the room for over two minutes before Dante broke it:

"Headmaster," the word seemed too loud. "I'm sorry. I know that my actions were impulsive and uncalled for. I should have held my temper."

"You actions, Dante," the headmaster's tone was surprisingly gentle, "whether or not I approve of them, were entirely justified given the circumstances. In fact, you exercised an incredible amount of self-control for a sixteen-year-old young man, something that should never have been tested in such a fashion. You would think that two men in their late thirties would have the decency and maturity to resolve their grudges. However, some wounds run too deep."

Remembering his earlier conversation with Severus, Dante pulled the desire to tell Sirius the truth to the forefront of his mind, willing the headmaster to know his thoughts since he could not ask the question out loud. Dumbledore met his eyes for a few moments then shook his head.

"No, Dante. I'm afraid that is not possible. I will discuss this with you later, if you wish, but for now please put those thoughts aside."

Knowing that was all that the headmaster could afford to say at this time, Dante did not press it. He merely nodded his head and glanced towards Severus whose hands were clenching the robes at his knees. Dumbledore turned back towards Severus and Sirius, took a breath, and spoke again.

"I am absolutely appalled by this behavior. I cannot make clear enough how upset I am that you two cannot lay your hatred aside and how ashamed at myself for not taking measures to end this ridiculous feud. I had hoped that within time you would come to recognize the value the other brings to this war. Apparently, Voldemort is not a large enough enemy for you to unite against. Severus, I commend you your restraint in reacting violently. However, I cannot understand how someone who can stand in front of Voldemort without ever betraying a wrong emotion can cave so easily to some rather predictable insults. I expect you to set a better example for your son."

Severus said nothing, and Dante made a note to ask him why. He thought his father had been surprisingly tame, so why was Dumbledore reprimanding him? Dante saw the headmaster's eyes turn to fix on Sirius and he mentally steeled himself for the coming storm. Sirius refused to look up.

"Sirius," the headmaster's voice sounded mildly curious rather than angry. Sirius looked up, hopeful. "Do you still hold to your belief that you are innocent in all this?" Thinking that Dumbledore's tone showed approval for his actions, Sirius regained a bit of confidence.

"Headmaster, while I may have said some things out of anger, you saw how I was clearly provoked and that child showed me no respect at all! He just attacked me for no reason other than his not being able to handle the realities of his life."

"Do you mean to tell me that, having revisited the scene, you can still claim that you are not at fault?" Dumbledore's voice turned dangerous and Sirius quickly realized that he was in serious trouble with the headmaster. "Get out of my office."

Sirius sputtered, at a loss for what to say.

"Excuse me?"

"Did I stutter? I would not have believed this of you had I not seen it with my own eyes. I am intimately acquainted with Severus and Dante's situation, and the young man's mother. I have allowed this pathetic rivalry to go on for too long. While I cannot put an end to it, I will say this: if I ever hear of another incident, Severus will monitor all the detentions for two weeks and Sirius will be confined to headquarters until I see he has matured enough to leave. Remus will spend the next two cycles by himself."

"But, Albus, that isn't fair to Remus –"

"Well, now you understand that what you do does not only affect you but also those around you. Perhaps two months of confinement will have a lasting impact.

"Headmaster, this is absolutely ridiculous!"

"No, what's ridiculous is that your twelve years in prison didn't drive the lesson home. You are not a schoolboy, Sirius, and it's time you realized that. Otherwise, someone else might suffer because of you and no magic can undo it." Dumbledore took a deep breath. "Now, I don't want to hear anything else of the kind. Shake hands and leave each other alone."

For a moment, nobody moved. Then, Severus slowly put his hand out, his face impassive. Sirius scowled and grasped the potions master's hand before quickly letting go. It reminded Dante of a similar occurrence only a month ago in the hospital wing. There was an awkward pause while Sirius clearly tried to determine if Dumbledore wanted him to shake Dante's hand as well, but Dante took the initiative and shoved his hand out. Sirius' eyes narrowed on his face but he shook Dante's hand just the same.

"I'm sorry," Dante whispered, then blushed, as he let go of Sirius' hand, not sure what possessed him to say that.

Sirius' eyes widened slightly. He opened his mouth then shut it, his eyes flicking over to Dumbledore.

"Excuse me," he said quietly before heading for the door. "I will speak to you tonight, headmaster," he added to Dumbledore before exiting the office. The soft clink of the shutting door brought the others back to reality.

"Well, Harry," Dumbledore said, a thoughtful look on his face. "I think you surprised him."

"I think you surprised us all," Severus remarked dryly.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP 

The following morning, Dante remained hidden in his room, sleeping in until noon. He wasn't hungry and he did not feel much like flying that day. All he could think about was his encounter with Sirius and how sick he felt about the entire fiasco.

He felt ashamed for acting so impulsively, but Sirius had shocked him so thoroughly that reason had gone out the window. He knew how much animosity existed between the two and yet he assumed that Sirius would give him the benefit of the doubt. He should have expected that Sirius would do to him what Severus had done to him, but it still felt like someone had punched a hole in his chest and ripped out his heart.

Sirius had been a mixture of a father and brother to him. He might not have been physically present for most of last year, but the simple knowledge that he existed, worried about him, had been a source of comfort. The man had lived off of rats for him! A changed name and appearance had done what nothing else could have. Dante was sure that he could have done anything as Harry Potter (short of joining Voldemort) and Sirius would have defended him. Now, Dante had the sinking feeling that he could give his life for someone and Sirius would find a way to discredit him.

He would give Sirius no excuse to dislike him. Too bad he had just humiliated the man by disarming him and making him helpless in front of his enemy. He would be painfully polite, and he wasn't sure his heart could handle putting any more effort besides that. He wanted what he had before, but it was stupid to think he could ever have that kind of relationship with Sirius again.

Tossing and turning, Dante tried to get a few more minutes of rest in, but his mind kept buzzing. He gave up and reached for the charms book on the floor. He opened it to the section on cheering charms to review some of last year's material. He had never gotten the strength quite right. He recalled Ron casting an extra strength version of the charm on him last year. The memory made him smile until he remembered that, like Sirius, his relationship with Ron was over. Would all the Weasleys hate him for being Severus' son? Hopefully Fred and George would not see him as their next test case for whatever sweets they had recently invented.

He put the book aside after realizing that he had read the same sentence four times. He threw back the covers and tumbled out of bed (this time landing on his feet) and walked into the living area. Severus sat there, a book open and parchment out, making notes. He seemed enthralled in the work, so much that he did not notice Dante walking up behind him to glance over his shoulder. Dante held his breath, wondering how long it would take. Severus' quill paused momentarily on the parchment before resuming its path.

"How long are you going to stand there before announcing your presence?"

Damn! He thought he had been quiet.

"Sorry, I was just wondering what you've been working on."

"A modified version of the Dreamless Sleep potion."

"Why?" Dante asked, thinking back to his own experience with the potion. "I think it works just fine. It does what the name suggests."

"Yes, it gives the take a sleep without dreams, but the potion is addictive. You can only take it two or three nights a week. Otherwise, you cannot sleep without it, but it slowly drives you mad as it poisons your brain. Quite a horrible way to die."

"Oh, so you're trying to figure out how to make a non-addictive version?"

"Yes, but I'm having trouble finding a solution that will accomplish that, but still work for the full eight hours. It's rather tricky."

"Cool," Dante said, having nothing else to say. He searched his mind for a safe topic. "So what will I be doing this afternoon while you are gone?"

"You will be accompanying myself and the headmaster to headquarters of the Order, and we are leaving shortly."

"What?" Dante looked up at his father. "Why?"

"The meeting begins in about twenty minutes and we have to go up to the headmaster's office."

"No, I mean, why do I have to come? Can't I just stay here?"

"The headmaster has asked that you come with us. He does not want you to be alone."

"The headmaster doesn't want to leave me alone?" Dante laughed. "Is Mrs. Norris going to attack me if I wander into the corridors? Will Death Eaters pop out of the fireplace as soon as you leave? Please, Severus, stop joking with me."

"I am not joking, Dante," Severus said frowning. "You will accompany me tonight, and I don't want to hear another word on the subject."

"You have got to be joking!" Dante said. "Don't you trust me to look after myself for a few hours?"

"The headmaster –"

"Oh, sure, put the blame on the headmaster. Gods, I knew this whole "nice father act" was too good to last," Dante sneered. "Is that the latest plan? Follow me around everywhere I go to make sure I don't go off and do something stupid?"

"No, Dante, just listen to me –"

"I don't understand why I can't stay here by myself!" Dante shouted. "For god's sake, I'm not a five year old! I think I can handle staying here for a few hours without blowing the entire castle up!"

"Perhaps if you stopped acting like you were five, I would reconsider," Severus snapped, his black eyes flashing.

"I'm not ready to face all those people! You know what's at stake if I let something slip, and what if you accidentally call me Harry or Potter? This is a stupid risk!"

"The headmaster has made it clear to me that he wants you to go tonight," Severus was loosing the battle to calm down. "You may ask him before we leave since this is _such_ a difficult request for your delicate mind."

"Well, will I at least be allowed in the meeting?" Dante said after a few moments of consideration.

"Of course not, you're only 15."

"ONLY 15? Is that really what you think of me? I've probably faced Voldemort more times than more than half of your precious order but _no_, I'm not allowed to be let in on what's going on because I'm _only 15_." Dante could not believe this was happening.

"You must be of age to be in the Order, no matter how lucky you've been to survive in the past. And," he paused, livid. "you have to possess real talent to perform what we are required to do."

"Real talent?" Dante's voice cracked, but he hardly noticed, he was so angry. "What the hell do you call me fighting Voldemort and living to talk about it? Who alerted the world that he was back? I did. Who had to witness Cedric die because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time? I did!"

"Do not address me in such a childish manner," Severus' voice became dangerous. "I am not Minerva or your mutt godfather, I will not tolerate you shouting in such a fashion. You are not convincing me of anything except that Albus is correct and you cannot be trusted to be left on your own, even for an evening."

"Please," Dante whispered, switching tactics. "Don't make me go. I'm not ready."

"I have already told you that my mind will not be altered on the matter. You may take it up with the headmaster."

"Fine," Dante fumed, crossing his arms. "Make me."

"Excuse me?"

"Make me go, cause I'm not going willingly."

The two men stared at each other. Dante looked fierce in defiance and Severus looked incredulous for a moment before sneering.

"Very well, if that is how you want this to be."

Severus pulled out his wand and Dante quickly pulled his own out, ready to defend himself. Without uttering a spell, Severus flicked his wand and Dante's arms and legs snapped together in a body bind. Humiliated, Dante tried to move anything but found he could not. He was so focused on trying to break the body bind that he hardly noticed himself being hoisted into the air and pushed out the door. He realized it was futile to waste any more energy and stopped struggling, looking at the ceiling float over his eyes. They must have reached the gargoyle because Dante felt the bind lift and he fell unceremoniously to the floor, hitting his backside hard.

"What the hell was that for, _father_?" he spat, getting to his feet. He stumbled, diminishing the effect he wanted, but managed to stand upright without toppling over.

"I was merely doing as you requested," Severus sneered. "However, I thought that perhaps you had changed your mind and wished to enter the headmaster's office of your own volition. Am I wrong?"

"I'll go, but I still think I'm being treated like a child," Dante said. Not wanting to admit that he may have overreacted, he spoke the password and entered the spiraling staircase before Severus could say anything else. His anger had calmed somewhat, but he was still upset that Severus and Dumbledore were treating him like a child. Honestly, he could take care of himself for one measly night! Not to mention he would probably have to see Sirius again, since he was a part of the Order. Well, maybe he could just avoid them all and hide in the library if there was one.


	11. Chapter 11

This chapter is dedicated to beautifulbee22

**Chapter 11: In which our younger hero turns fifteen**

"And people wonder why I hate magical means of travel."

At least, that's what Severus thought Dante had said. His son had decided to see what grass tasted like upon landing, and his words were a little muddled.

"You don't seem to have a problem flying on a broom."

"That's because I can control the damn broom. It's a nice broom and does exactly what I ask it to do. Now will you please help me up?"

Severus smirked as he hoisted his son up from the ground. He helped Dante brush the grass and dirt from his robes. Dante looked around in confusion at the dingy state of the street they were on.

"Where are we? I thought we were going to the Order meeting? Is this a muggle neighborhood?"

"You will see soon enough," Severus said.

"Sir?" Dante said to Dumbledore. The headmaster ignored him and began to rummage around in his pockets. Pulling out a small slip of paper, he handed it to Dante.

"Please read this and memorize the contents."

"What is this?"

"Please, Dante," Severus said impatiently. "Do as he says and I will explain inside. It's not safe out here."

Looking down at the paper, he saw the familiar loopy writing of the headmaster. _The location for the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number 12 Grimmauld Place_. Dante opened his mouth to repeat his question, but as soon as he looked up, he saw the two buildings in front of him shift, and a third building squeezed in between. His jaw dropped.

"What – " he sputtered.

"Come on, Dante, or we will be late. You can gawk later."

"But that building just appeared out of nowhere."

"Yes, it's called magic," Severus remarked snidely. "Now that we've established that difficult concept, let's get inside."

Dante's mind continued to reel as Dumbledore stepped up to the door and rapped sharply. The door opened a crack and Dante barely registered the ginger hair before Severus swept him inside.

"Was that the Fideleus Charm?" he asked Dumbledore quietly, figuring that Severus would come up with another creative way to insult him if Dante asked him.

"Yes, I'm surprised you didn't recognize it directly." Dumbledore said equally soft.

"I've only heard of it. It's not like I've ever seen it in action." Dante defended and looked up when he heard a familiar voice.

"Headmaster, the meeting is just about to begin. Everyone is here now that you and Severus have arrived. I've put the kettle on so you can have a spot of tea."

Dante tried very hard not stare at Molly Weasley. It was the first time he had been around her that she hadn't immediately tried to feed him something or squeeze the breath out of him. He could not pinpoint why he felt a sudden sense of loss. It wasn't as if he enjoyed being treated like a child.

"Who is this, headmaster?"

"This is Severus' son, Molly. His name is Dante. Can you show him where to go? I will get ready to begin the meeting."

If Mrs. Weasley was surprised by the sudden appearance of a strange boy of the snarky potions professor, she didn't show it.

"Of course, Headmaster. You and Severus hurry along. I'll get him settled upstairs with Ron and the others."

She bustled them along the long, thin corridor, past a large curtain and a stand of umbrellas. Dante saw the doorway at the end open briefly, but couldn't see what lay beyond it as the door shut as soon as Severus walked through. Mrs. Weasley turned back to him and motioned for him to follow her. Dante hesitated. Whatever the headmaster and Severus thought, he wasn't ready to face Ron and Hermione yet. He had a strong feeling he wasn't going to like the end result and wasn't mentally prepared to deal with their inevitable rejection.

"Well, come along dear," Mrs. Weasley had realized that Dante wasn't following her and came back down towards him. "You need to go upstairs with the other children during the meeting."

"I'm not a child. I'm sixteen," Dante snapped at her. Why did every adult insist on calling Dante a child?

"Of course, dear. I will show you where the other _adolescents_ are." Mrs. Weasley pushed him down the corridor and up the stairs. "My, you are just as sensitive as Severus."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, I was rude to snap," Dante said. He didn't want to get off to a bad start with Mrs. Weasley. The woman, as smothering as she could be, had always welcomed him into her home. He looked at the steps as they climbed, his eyes carefully avoiding the heads of house elves that adorned the walls. "I just don't appreciate being called a child."

"Oh, I forget sometimes how people can be at your age. You would think that I would have figured it out after having raised seven children. And please, you needn't call me ma'am. Mrs. Weasley will do just fine. After all, I'm sure we will seeing each other quite a bit this summer." She stopped in front a door on the first landing. "Well, in you go. Severus will come collect you after the meeting. Try to make sure they keep the noise down in there. You don't want to wake up the portrait."

Before he could ask what she meant about waking up the portrait, she had already left. Dante let out a shaky breath and turned back to the door. Just as he had mustered up enough courage to grab the handle, the door opened.

"Oh, sorry, I thought I heard mum outside. Who are you?"

One of the twins had opened the door, although Dante couldn't figure out which one it was. Not sure what to say, he didn't say anything and stared at the other figure.

"Oy, George!" an all-too familiar voice called out. "What's taking so long? Is mum accusing us of trying to listen in again?" Dante nearly jumped out of his skin as a loud crack sounded.

"Nah, it's some new kid," Fred said, now standing next to his twin. "You look familiar…"

"Honestly, Fred, you could have just walked from the bed to the door. There was no need to apparate and make so much noise." Dante struggled to keep his calm façade. Not her too.

"You going come in, mate, or are you just going stand there all night?" George asked. "You won't be able to hear anything that's going on downstairs. They've got that door warded."

Unable to trust his voice, Dante simply nodded and followed the twins inside the room. Looking around, he saw Ron sitting on the bed, propped up against the headboard, a plate of sandwiches in hand. Hermione and Ginny were playing with Crookshanks on the ground. Ginny was dangling a ball of string in the front of the cat's face and yanking it out of the way before he could catch it with his paw. The cat was clearly frustrated, much to Ginny's delight. Hermione, for some reason, didn't seem to be as concerned with her cat as she normally was. Instead, she was staring at Dante, clearly analyzing his every move.

"So, oo the 'ell are 'ou?" Ron asked, his mouth full with a sandwich.

"Ron!" Hermione all but shrieked as she looked away from Dante. "Must you act like a barbarian? At least swallow before you ask another rude question."

"Sorry, 'Ermione," Ron said through another mouthful. "I just want to know who he is."

"Sorry about him," Ginny said wryly. "The brains weren't properly distributed to all the children. Apparently no one remembers how to introduce themselves to strangers. I'm Ginny. Those two idiots are Fred and George, and the moron on the bed is Ron. I would say that they aren't normally like this, but then I'd be lying."

"I'm Hermione," the bushy-haired girl muttered shyly. Dante had forgotten how she could be around people she didn't know.

"Dante."

"So who dragged you here tonight?" Fred asked. "I mean, I know it's a party and all up here, but I know that I'd rather be taking my girl out than holed up in here."

"You would think," George continued. "That since we're 17 we could go to Order meetings. But no, we're – "

"_Children,_" Fred and George sneered together.

"Do they always do this?" Dante asked to no one in particular.

"All the bloody time," Ginny sighed. "And no, you don't get used to it, especially now since they can do magic outside of school. They're unbearable."

"Why, sister, dearest," George said, placing a hand over his heart.

"You wound us with your unkind words," Fred continued, swooning against the bedpost.

"Our favorite sister-"

"I'm your only sister," she said, cocking an eyebrow. They continued as though they hadn't heard her.

"Calling _us_ unbearable?"

"I don't believe we will ever recover from these false allegations-"

"This condemnation-"

"This denunciation-"

A crack, louder than the one prior, sounded as both Fred and George apparated two feet to the right to stand right behind Ginny.

"We are wounded!" They both exclaimed.

"I think I see what you mean," Dante murmured, trying hard not to chuckle. He missed the twins' antics.

"Well, aren't you two a pair of walking thesauruses," Hermione remarked. "If you put half as much time into your studies as you did into annoying people, you would be top of your class."

"But, Hermione, dear," Dante had no idea which twin was speaking now.

"Where is the fun in that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and Dante knew she was resigning herself to the fact that the twins were a lost cause.

"We should have guests more often," Ginny said, smirking. "Fred and George are prime tonight."

"Speaking of guests," Ron spoke up again. "You never told us who you were."

"He said his name was Dante, Ron," Hermione spoke before Dante could. "Weren't you paying attention?"

"Yeah, I heard that part," Ron said, grabbing another sandwich from the plate on the bedside table. "I meant who brought him."

All the occupants in the room turned their attention towards Dante. The young man in question opened and closed his mouth twice without saying anything. He had to keep reminding himself that he wasn't supposed to know about his father's reputation, so he should have no hesitation about answering.

"I think we broke him."

Dante released a sound that sounded like a strangled laugh mixed with a sigh. Trust the twins to lighten the mood.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm just not used to being around so many new people at once. It's a bit overwhelming." He took a deep breath in his mind. "I came with my father, Professor Snape."

Absolute silence dominated the bedroom. Well, that was better than being tarred and feathered.

"From what he's told me, he is your potions professor?" Dante supplied, trying to get the next few minutes over with as quickly as possible. The silence broke when Fred and George started laughing.

"Mate, that's brilliant!"

"You had us going for a bit."

"Imagine-"

"Snape, the greasy bat of the dungeons-"

"Having a _son_?"

"I'm crying, Fred! Look, I'm actually crying!"

They continued in this fashion until they noticed the blank look Dante was giving them. The laughter died.

"Why does everyone _always_ laugh?" Dante muttered.

"Are you really Professor Snape's son?" There was Hermione.

"_Yes_," Dante said, exasperated. His response was met with looks of horror from the Weasleys and a look a calculation from Hermione.

"Well, what are you doing _here_?" Ron asked, a look of disgust on his face.

"My father and the headmaster decided it would be best if I came." Dante felt his heart pounding as he answered.

"Well, isn't this _perfect_," Ron sneered. "Your precious daddy isn't satisfied with torturing us during the school year, he has to send you along to ruin our summer. As if it isn't ruined enough as it is."

"I'm sorry if you don't get on with my father – "

"Well isn't that the understatement of the century."

"_Ron_!" Hermione said. "There's no reason to be so rude!"

"Oh, come on, Hermione! Snape hates us. He never even gave us a chance before deciding that he hated us, and it's ten times worse for Harry." Dante flinched at the name, but nobody noticed. Hermione opened her mouth to interrupt Ron, but Ron beat her to it. "No, Hermione! Harry should be the one here right now, it's his birthday for Merlin's sake! Instead, he's stuck in a coma. So sorry that I'm not going to let some miniature Snape waltz in here to spy for his Death Eater father just so he can have an excuse to throw us in detention before we even return to school!"

"My father is not a Death Eater," Dante said quietly, fighting to control his anger. First Sirius, and now Ron. How many times would he have to go through this? And it was his birthday?

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Ron. My father is not a Death Eater."

"I never gave you permission to use my name, you filthy spy. Only my friends can call me that."

Dante flinched as though he had been slapped in the face.

"Oh please, Snape," Ron said. "Don't act as if you're hurt. We are not, nor ever will be friends, so you can just turn right around and leave us alone."

"Fine," Dante said, trying to keep his hands from shaking. "I'll leave as soon as you apologize."

"Apologize for what, Snape?"

"I want you to apologize for calling my father a Death Eater. He's not loyal to Voldemort." Everyone in the room flinched at the mention of Voldemort's name. Dante rolled his eyes. "Why is everyone so afraid of a stupid name? It's not like he's going to appear out of thin air every time someone says it." No one responded. "Fine, well, since I'm obviously not welcome here, I'll just leave and let the collective IQ drop back down to where it was before."

Dante spun on his heel, laughing to himself at the scandalized look on Hermione's face. He was opening the door when a hand grabbed his shoulder and forced him around. Ron loomed over him. Dante hadn't realized how much Ron had shot up over the summer since the other young man had been sitting down. Ron had three or four inches on him, even with Dante's growth spurt.

"Listen, Snape," Ron said, getting right in Dante's face. "Just stay the hell away from us. Got it?"

"Isn't that what I'm doing right now?" Dante sneered back. "Or are you blind as well as stupid? I was just leaving when you decided to stop me."

"Don't mock me!"

"Then stop making it so easy for me." He turned around a second time with the intention of leaving, but Ron grabbed his left arm. Dante tried not to wince as pain shot up through his shoulder. His body was still weak from the events of the past few days. He attempted to move his arm, but Ron merely tightened his grip. Dante felt pathetic as he gasped, "Let go of my arm, Weasley."

"I'm just making sure you are clear where you and your Death Eater father stand with us."

"My father is NOT A DEATH EATER!"

Dante tried to wrench his arm away again, but Ron immediately pulled his arm back and Dante's balled fist smacked straight into Ron's nose. Ron howled as blood streamed down his face. Dante immediately began apologizing.

"I'm so sorry. It was an accident. I didn't mean to –" Dante had a look of horror on his face as Ron roared with fury and tried to grab Dante once again. Deciding it was time for a quick disappearing act, Dante whipped out his wand.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!"

Déjà vu hit Dante as Ron's arms and legs snapped together and he fell backwards with crash. The girls were looking on in alarm while the twins were cackling in the corner. George was crying again.

"Er – nice to meet you, and sorry. Again," Dante said before quickly leaving the room. He shut the door behind him and ran up two flights of stairs. There was no way he would stick around long enough for someone (probably Hermione) to release Ron from the body-bind and heal his nose.

He leaned against the wall and slid down, cradling his arm. Any hope he had held of a friendship with Ron had shattered with the redhead's nose. No, it had been a lost cause all along. Dante knew how prejudiced Ron was towards Snape and any Slytherin. Of course Ron would distrust him as soon as he learned who Dante's father was. Dante hoped that he was safe from any retribution at the moment.

Dante took deep breaths to control his shaking body, ignoring the pain that pulsed in his arm. He wasn't angry; he was mentally and physically drained from that meeting. He hadn't expected Hermione or the twins to be there. In fact, the only Weasley missing was Percy, but Dante assumed that he was downstairs in the meeting with all the other "adults." Being bombarded by that many familiar faces had been terrifying. Out of all his friends, he figured that Hermione would figure out his secret first. As much as it pained him to think about, he knew he would have to avoid her for the time being, especially since Ron obviously had a problem with him. She would never choose someone she hardly knew over one of her best friends.

"What would poor mistress think if she could see the filth in this house? Why can't they leave Kreacher in peace?"

Dante's head snapped up to find the oldest and ugliest house elf he had ever seen walking down the corridor. Not that he had seen that many house elves, but still. The gnarled creature kept muttering to himself.

"Excuse me?" Dante said, hoping the elf could give him some information.

"The boy speaks. What does he want with Kreacher? He is probably a filthy mudblood or blood traitor. Kreacher will not answer."

"I'm sorry to disturb you – Kreacher, is it?" Dante was confused as to why the house elf was talking to himself, but not bothering to keep his voice down. The creature was probably a bit off of his rocker. Well, it never hurt to be polite to a house elf. "My name is Dante Snape, and I'm wondering if you can tell me where I can go that's quiet?"

"He says he is a Snape. Snape hates the blood traitor master. Perhaps this is his son?"

"That's right, Professor Snape is my father," Dante said, unable to tell if the house elf was addressing him at all. Who the hell owned this place? Severus disliked a number of people, so that clue did nothing to limit the field.

"The boy is Snape's son. Helping him would displease the master. Kreacher shall answer his question. Kreacher will show him to the library. Only the mudblood girl and filthy half breed go there."

"The library would be great, thanks."

Bewildered, Dante followed the small creature down a flight of stairs and down a corridor. At the end, Kreacher opened a door on the left hand side and let Dante pass through into a large room.

Magic had clearly aided the designers of this room, as Dante was sure the building was not wide enough to accommodate such an expansive space. Scanning the book titles on the nearest shelf, Dante frowned. The titles didn't seem like ones you could find at the Hogwarts library, unless you happened to have access to the restricted section. What secrets did Number 12 Grimmauld Place hold? Who owned this house and why would the Order pick such an evil feeling place for headquarters? There was a house elf, implying that whoever lived here was from an old, pureblood family. The only family Dante could think of was the Malfoy family, but he sincerely doubted that's who owned the house.

Dante could sense Kreacher's eyes on him and tried to dismiss the unnerving feeling it gave him. The strange house elf's eyes scrutinized Dante as he looked through the library, and the young man tried to ignore the creature's ceaseless mutterings.

"Er – Kreacher?"

"The Snape boy speaks. What does he want with Kreacher?"

"Um, I don't mean to be rude. I mean. Thanks for showing me to the library, but do you mind if spend some time here alone?" Kreacher didn't make any indication that he had heard Dante's question except to disappear with a loud crack.

Shaking his head at the antics of the deranged house elf, Dante released a sigh. To say that tonight had not gone very well was a bigger understatement than saying that Voldemort disliked Harry Potter. He was not sure how long these meetings lasted, but he would hide in the library until it was over. Dante refused to go back to that room and face humiliation again.

"Well, I'm in a library," he said out loud. "Might as well read a book."

He wondered if the library had any decent books on defense and glanced over some shelves until he found a title on shields that looked promising. He opened the book at random to the fourth chapter and began reading about shields that could block physical objects in addition to spells. Dante raised his eyebrows as he read. The author discussed the shield's use against muggle firearms in addition to spells, making clear that muggle weapons could pose as much of a threat as spells. Holding his spot with a finger, Dante flipped to the front cover and stared in surprise. The name Sirius Black had been scrawled over the top left corner.

Sirius had been best friends with James Potter, a pureblood who had married "beneath" him, but he had also been friends with Remus Lupin, a werewolf. It didn't make sense that Sirius could have come from an old pureblood family and been friends with those two. The room suddenly felt too warm, so he shrugged out of his robe, wincing as his arm protested the movement.

Dante read the entirety of the fourth and fifth chapters, fascinated by the different types of shields. He was halfway through the sixth chapter (shields that could be cast over a different person than the caster) when the door to the library slowly opened. Dante, engrossed in the book, didn't look up until he heard yet another familiar voice.

"Excuse me, but are you Dante?"

Dante looked up and jumped out of his chair, dropping his book. Remus Lupin stood in the doorway, a curious expression on his face. Dante flushed and he hurried to pick up the dropped book. He had not expected to see his former professor so soon. He smacked his injured arm on the chair as he straightened up and held in the gasp of pain that built up in his throat.

"You do look like your father."

"I'm sorry, sir, but who are you?" Dante asked, hoping to draw attention away from his embarrassing reaction.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," Lupin said, now looking concerned. Dante mentally breathed a sigh of relief that Lupin had mistaken his response for fright. He didn't want to try and explain why Lupin's presence had been so off-putting. "My name is Remus Lupin. I'm in the Order with your father."

"Oh," Dante said, not knowing what else to say.

"The meeting is over and your father was worried when you weren't where Molly had left you."

"Oh," Dante repeated, hating how stupid he sounded. "Sorry, I just wanted to read in peace. The others were, er, a bit too exuberant for me."

"Yes, I can see how you would think so," Lupin chuckled. "I taught five of them a few years ago. The twins never allowed for a dull moment." A few moments of silence passed.

"Well," Dante started, feeling awkward standing there with his former professor. "I shouldn't keep Severus waiting." He grabbed his robe with his good arm and followed Lupin out of the room.

As they approached the landing on the second floor, Dante glanced down and saw Severus speaking with a tall, darker man. Dante eyed the bald head and gold hoop earring with curiosity as he walked down the steps. Whether he had some sixth sense, super-sonic hearing, or eyes in the back of his head, Dante didn't know, but Severus turned just as Dante's foot touched the bottom step.

"There you are," he spoke in a low voice, clearly trying not to attract the attention of everyone standing in the corridor. "Where have you been? The meeting has been over for 20 minutes, but Miss Granger said that you ran out barely five minutes after you had come in."

"Can we talk about this later sir- er," Dante tried to ignore the curious look that the dark man with the earring was giving him. "I mean, father. I would rather just go home."

"Is this your son, Severus?"

The man spoke with a low, smooth voice that happened to stop all conversation around him. People who had not yet noticed Dante's presence suddenly looked at him. With all the stares, the young man felt like he was an exhibit in the zoo. Well, it wasn't as if he hadn't dealt with that before on multiple occasions.

"Yes, Kingsley, this is my son, Dante," Severus said crisply, as if daring someone to contradict him. The other adults seemed to sense his annoyance and quickly moved towards the front door. Soon it was only Dante, Severus, Lupin, and –

"Dear," There was Mrs. Weasley. "Where have you been? I left you right outside the door where everyone was. How did you get separated from them?"

"I'm a little uncomfortable in crowded places, Mrs. Weasley," Dante made up, surprising himself.

"Dante suffers from a mild form of claustrophobia," Severus inserted smoothly. Dante mentally breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry about that dear, but you really should not have wandered off," Mrs. Weasley tutted. "This house is full of wretched things. We haven't finished clearing it all out. You could have run into trouble. Oh, there you are. Why did you let Dante leave?"

Dante forced himself not to turn around, knowing all too well that Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the twins were coming down the stairs. The sound reminiscent of thundering elephants gave that away even without Mrs. Weasley's statement.

"Can we please leave?" Dante turned his back on the Weasleys and whispered fervently to his father.

"If you would like," Severus said with a blank face. Suddenly he frowned, looking at Dante's left arm. "What is that?"

"What's what?" Dante asked looking down. An ugly bruise in the shape of a handprint was already forming where Ron had grabbed him. Dante cursed himself for not putting his robe back on before heading downstairs.

"It's nothing, Severus," he said, trying to feign ignorance. "I probably bumped my arm into something. I bruise easily."

"Mum, I don't see what the big deal is!" Dante could hear Ron's voice clearly. "So what, he left? Good riddance. We didn't want him around and let him know it." Severus' eyes flickered behind Dante, telling him that Severus heard too.

"Did Weasley do that to you?"

"I can handle myself. I'm not a child."

"Did Weasley do that to you?" Severus raised his voice, catching the attention of Mrs. Weasley. She turned to screech at her youngest son.

"What did you do, Ronald?"

"What are you looking at me for? I didn't do anything to that crybaby!"

Dante turned around to face his old friends.

"He didn't do anything to me, Mrs. Weasley," he said evenly, hoping to end the discussion so he could go home. Unfortunately, Lady Fortune's wheel kept spinning out of his favor.

"Perhaps, Mr. Weasley," Severus sounded lethal. "You can enlighten us all as to how my son received this?" Severus motioned to Dante's arm, careful not to touch it.

With all the attention on him, Ron knew he had been backed into a corner.

"Yeah, I grabbed his arm," he admitted with a shrug, feigning bravado. Hermione looked like she wanted to stomp on his foot, but Ginny stood in between her and Ron. "He wouldn't leave us be and he broke my nose!"

Dante stood frozen as several pairs of eyes swiveled back to him. He didn't know what to do anymore. His plan to try and ignore it had failed utterly, and he would not allow Severus to think that he had just attacked Ron like that.

"I – I – " he could not make himself form words in defense. Ron looked at him with so much hatred that Dante could not think of anything to say. He could only imagine what Severus thought of him now.

"Hey, here's a concept, Ronniekins. Why don't you tell everyone what really happened?"

One of the twins stepped forward in Dante's defense.

"Do tell us, Mr. Weasley," Severus said, turning his gaze towards Ron.

"Why are you defending him, Fred?" Ron asked. "He attacked me for no reason!"

"We all saw what happened, Ron," George said, standing next to his twin. "Dante clearly came in with no ill will and you immediately assumed the worst about him."

"Yeah, and just when he about to leave, you grabbed his arm and wouldn't let go." Fred added.

"Dante did break his nose, mum," George admitted. "But it was clearly an accident. Ron wouldn't let go of his arm and wrenched it right into his own nose."

"He looked horrified at what had happened. You should have seen his face."

"Is this true, Ronald?" Mrs. Weasley said, looking at her son in disbelief.

"It wasn't an accident! He broke my nose on purpose and then ran away!"

"It was an accident Ron," Fred hissed. "And maybe Dante would have stuck around if you hadn't kept calling his father a filthy Death Eater."

Silence filled the corridor. Ron turned furiously to Hermione and Ginny.

"Well! Aren't you two going to defend me?"

Hermione looked helplessly between Ron and Ginny, who glared at her brother. Clearly, familial bonds only went so far, and Hermione was torn between defending her best friend and telling the truth. Silence seemed the best solution for both young women.

"Whatever. Just don't show your face around here again, Snape," Ron said before storming off. His dramatic exit failed when he tripped going up the stairs. Mrs. Weasley sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry for Ronald's behavior. That was absolutely despicable."

"It's alright, Mrs. Weasley," Dante said quietly as he pulled on his robe. "I'm sure he's not the only person who will react that way."

"Why don't you all go back upstairs," Mrs. Weasley said, turning to Hermione and the others. "I'll call you down for a spot of tea later."

"Sorry about Ron, mate," George said, nodding towards Dante.

"Yeah, he's just being a git cause he's been cooped up all summer. He'll come around." Fred added.

Hermione and Ginny said nothing. They went back upstairs, followed by the twins (who, surprisingly, had _not_ apparated), and Mrs. Weasley headed back towards the kitchen. As she walked through the door at the end of the corridor, Sirius and Lupin walked back through.

Not wanting another confrontation with Sirius, Dante turned and began walking towards the front door, hoping his father would take the hint and get him out of there. He was through playing nice today.

"Wait, Dante!"

"Oh, so it's _Dante_ now, is it?" Dante spat, not turning around to look at Sirius. Sirius' voice stirred up his anger again. "I thought I was Snape's bastard child, son of a whore."

"Look, I – "

"No!" Dante said, turning around. "I don't want to hear your stupid, ill-thought out excuses made only to appease your own guilt. I've already had to put up with enough dunderheads today and I don't want to put up with another one."

"But – "

"You heard him, Black," Severus hissed. "He doesn't want to speak with you. We are leaving."

"Leave it, Sirius," Lupin said, resting his hand on Sirius' shoulder. "I'm glad that I was able to meet you, Dante. I hope that you will come around some time to explore the library. Sirius' family has built up quite the collection."

"Perhaps," Dante said with the barest of smiles. Not bloody likely. He wasn't going to come here unless Severus dragged him again. Hopefully the little display by Ron was enough to prove to his father that this was a bad idea. Pity. Lupin had treated him like a normal person, like an adult. And did he just say that _Sirius' _family had built up the collection? He would ask Severus later, as in, later when they finally got out of this wretched place and returned to the sanity of the castle.

"Happy Birthday to me," he muttered as they left the building, not noticing Severus' look of shock at his words.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

"Albus, how could you have forgotten to mention that today was his birthday?"

Dante had already gone to bed, exhausted from his encounter at Grimmauld Place. Severus was currently pacing the headmaster's office, ranting.

"Severus, with all that has been happening, I'm afraid I forgot what day it was. I'm sorry I forgot to tell you, but you can make it up to him. He can't have expected you to know."

"And if he did?" Severus snapped, throwing Dumbledore a glare that could curdle milk. "What kind of father doesn't know his own son's birthday? What do I even get him?"

"He is not the kind of young man who desires material possessions," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "Perhaps something of a different nature would be more appropriate."

"As in…"

"What of your inheritance? How long has it been since you stepped foot in Prince Manor?"

"I – I don't know." Severus frowned in concentration. It was one of those gaps that were slowly filling up with memories. "Years. Maybe not since I began my post at Hogwarts. I have the small cottage that Lily and I lived in after our marriage, but I have not been there either. I had forgotten it until now. I don't even know if it is still there."

"I have kept that residence safe," Dumbledore said with a small smile. "Might I suggest that you take Dante with you to visit them? I think he would appreciate the gesture. I also have another idea that might interest you."

Severus finally sat down in a chair as Dumbledore explained his plan.

"Can you actually accomplish this by tomorrow afternoon? I thought these sorts of things take time? And if anyone were to find out – "

"Just leave everything to me, Severus. Bring Dante with you to my office around 3 tomorrow afternoon and it will be ready."

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

The next morning, Dante woke up feeling more tired than when he went to bed. He had tossed and turned all night reliving the previous evening, his mind creating different scenarios for how things could have (but did not) turned out. He felt particularly guilty over his reaction to Sirius' obvious attempt to apologize. It was not like Sirius to admit his own faults, but his apology should have been directed towards Severus. Their stupid rivalry grated on Dante's nerves, but he did not know the whole story and therefore could not judge who held the blame.

And what a way to spend his birthday. He had not even realized what day it was until last night. His sense of time had turned upside down since his escape from the Dursleys. And it's not as if anyone had remembered. Well, Severus and Dumbledore had forgotten, but at this point in time he was used to spending his birthday alone.

Knowing that his pity party would do nothing to change yesterday's events, he crawled out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a jumper. Despite the heat of summer, it was _cold_ in the dungeons. His hands automatically went to try and flatten out his hair, but he only felt smooth locks. Chuckling to himself at his old habits, he went out into the living space and saw Severus glancing through the _Daily Prophet_.

"Good morning," Severus said without looking up. That man must have bat ears.

"Hello," Dante returned.

"Albus has requested our presence this afternoon around 3. I have several items that I must sort through before then, so I trust that you will able to entertain yourself appropriately until then?"

"Of course," Dante said. "And, Severus. I – I'm sorry about my behavior last night, er, before we left for Grimmauld Place. I don't know what is wrong with me. I completely overreacted."

"Well, I admit that it is not entirely surprising," Severus said, putting down the paper. "Both of us are going to experience extreme waves of emotions for the next several weeks. Myself because of these blasted memories that are slowly reappearing in my mind, and you because you have an adult dedicated to your personal well being for the first time in your life."

"Yeah, I mean, I know that you are only trying to help," Dante said. "But it's so hard. No one has ever cared before, and I've managed to do well enough on my own."

"I know that you will think that I am being unreasonable and overbearing, but I assure you that I am only looking out for your best interests." Severus paused. "I know that you can handle yourself, but remember that you don't have to take care of everything anymore."

"I guess." Dante stopped, a thought coming to him. "Sir – Severus, I know that Dumbledore said that he is taking care of my sudden appearance after Harry Potter's sudden disappearance, but I still think it's too obvious. I know it will be fine for people outside of Hogwarts, but Hermione's too smart for her own good. She's going to figure it out. And Voldemort is clearly not an idiot."

"Yes, Albus and I discussed that last night after you went to bed." Dante tried not to bristle at that statement. Why couldn't he have been there too? "We will have Albus polyjuice himself as you and allow Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, and the others to come and visit the hospital wing. Since Harry Potter is supposedly in a magically induced coma, Albus will not have to act like you. You will be in the hospital wing at the same time, so everyone will see the both of you at the same time. This will also give me a perfect memory to supply to the Dark Lord concerning your whereabouts."

"Oh," Dante said, surprised. The plan was clever. Ron and Hermione could convince the rest of the school that Harry was exactly where Dumbledore said he was. They weren't exactly the best actors, and this would give them proper feelings to go off of.

"Well, off you go then," Severus said, rising from his seat. "You may stay here or spend your time in the library. I would prefer if you did not use the pitch today."

"OK, I think I'll go to the library," Dante said, stifling a grumble. Although, if truth be told, he did not feel much like flying today. There was enough time to complete his transfiguration essay if he didn't distract himself. He went back to his room and gathered his books, spare parchment, and partially completed essay.

When he arrived at the library, he was shocked to find Madam Pince waving her wand around the shelves, dusting off books. He was about to turn around and head back to the dungeons when she spotted him.

"What are you doing in my library?" she asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at the intruder.

"I'm sorry ma'am," Dante said, doing his best to be polite. "My father, Professor Snape, told me that I might use some texts in the library to complete my transfiguration essay. If that bothers you, I can return to his quarters. I don't want to be in your way."

"You are Professor Snape's son?" she asked, shock flickering across her face. Instead of accusing him of lying as everyone else had done, she merely studied him. "Yes, you do look enormously like him, and just as polite as he was as a student. I suppose you may study in here, but I better not catch you vandalizing my books or I will throw you out of here."

"Of course not, ma'am," Dante said hurriedly, before she could change her mind. "Could you possibly direct me to the section on transfiguration? My essay is on the differences between inanimate and animate transfiguration. This place is so big, I'm afraid I'll completely miss it."

"Follow me," she said and guided him toward the right side of the library, about two sections back. "You will find relevant texts on the bottom four shelves. If you cannot remember where you found the book, leave them on the table and I will re-shelve them. I don't want them ending up in the wrong place."

"Yes, ma'am," Dante said. "Thank you very much."

She nodded curtly and headed back to where she had left off the dusting. Dante couldn't see her, but he could hear the books shuffling around. The sound would not distract him.

He set his bag down on the nearest table and went over to the shelves Madam Pince had indicated. He scanned the titles and pulled out _First Steps in Animate Transfiguration_. Skimming through the first chapter, he could already see that this book went into much greater detail than his text for McGonagall's class. He pulled out his notes on animate transfiguration from the other day and readied a quill to take notes.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Dante sighed heavily as he stretched his arms and flexed his cramped hand. The book proved extremely useful and he had made significant progress on his essay. Some of the theory confused him, but he resolved to ask Severus when he was available. He had no idea what time it was, but his stomach growled rebelliously. Unable to ignore it, he packed up his items, re-shelved the book, and made his way out of the library.

"Thank you, Ma'am!" he called out, unsure if Madam Pince was even around to hear him. He saw he emerge from the left side of the stacks.

"I trust that I will see you again before the start of term?" she asked, halting her dusting.

"Er, yes, probably. And I'm sure that I will be in here plenty once term begins. I have a lot of catching up to do in some subjects."

"Hrm, well if you need me to direct you to any texts, I will do so. You have your father's reputation to uphold."

Dante merely nodded and waved goodbye. Wonderful, another person who expected ridiculous academic success from him.

He walked back down to Severus' quarters and gave Salazar a quick hello before entering. Severus was nowhere to be seen, but Dante assumed that he was working in the lab. Sitting down at the table, Dante called for Dobby.

The elf appeared and Dante gave a request for lunch, trying not to laugh as the bobbles on Dobby's hat bounced up and down with the house elf's movements. Dobby returned a few seconds later with a tray of food.

"Thanks, Dobby," Dante muttered as he bit into a sandwich. Dobby disappeared with a crack. "I love house elves."

Just as Dante finished up his lunch, the fireplace roared to life and Severus tumbled out to land smoothly on his feet.

"Where have you been?" Dante asked, curious.

"In due time," Severus said, glancing at the clock on the mantle. "Are you ready to see the headmaster?"

"Sure, let me just put my stuff in my room."

They headed up to Dumbledore's office, walking side by side in comfortable silence until they reached the stone gargoyle.

"Ton tongue toffees," Dante said, when Severus didn't. Apparently, Severus would not say the password unless absolutely necessary. They climbed the staircase and Dante swore he could hear Severus muttering under his breath about "those infernal Weasleys." It made Dante smile.

"Come in," was the reply heard after Severus knocked on the door.

"Ah, yes, please sit down," Dumbledore said, motioning for the two chairs in front of his desk. He was sporting royal purple robes with gold stars today. Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the man's antics, but Dante found them entertaining.

"What did you need to see us for, Professor?" Dante asked, curious.

"Severus and I would like to present you with a belated birthday present."

"Oh," Dante blushed and looked at his hands folded in his lap. They hadn't forgotten! "You really didn't need to do anything for me Professor. I mean – I wasn't expecting anything."

"Nonsense. You haven't even seen what we are giving you."

"I – um, OK," Dante mumbled.

Dumbledore smiled and handed him what looked like a folder. Dante took it and looked at Severus. The older man's face was impossible to read. Dante took a steadying breath and opened the file, eyes widening.

His original birth certificate rested on top, the name DANTE ALEXANDER SNAPE hand written in. His eyes drank in the name that had been carefully written in under the word "Mother." The name Lily Snape sounded foreign on it's own, but next to Severus Snape, "Father," it looked right. His hands trembled slightly as he set it aside.

He flipped through the next several sheets of paper, skimming over a very legal looking document. Confused, Dante looked back up at the two men.

"Those are documents for Severus gaining guardianship of you, Dante," Dumbledore said gently. "As you have been living with your aunt and uncle, they had to sign over their rights to Severus."

"They signed this?" Dante said, flipping to the final page. There they were, Petunia Dursley and Vernon Dursley's signatures. "I mean, I knew they never wanted me, but – " he couldn't form any more words.

"Your uncle needed a small push in the right direction. Your aunt, however, is very happy for you, as is your cousin."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Ah," Dumbledore looked as though he had been caught with his hand in the lemon drop jar. "Do you know what Legilimency is, Dante?"

"Yeah, Severus said it's like mind reading," Dante replied, then quickly added "but it's not _mind reading_ really, but I'm not sure I understand the difference."

"Well, your cousin was quite vocal in his regard for you. Your aunt, while I do not believe she would ever admit it out loud, was clearly thinking that you deserved to know your father. I admit that what I did was not very appropriate – Legilimency should not be used lightly – but sometimes a person's thoughts are too loud to ignore."

"I see," Dante noticed three empty lines. "What else needs to be done?"

"All that's needed is for you and Severus to sign, and I will witness."

"Great, can I have a quill?" he asked, reaching his hand out.

"Are you sure that this is what you want?" Severus asked quietly. "This guardianship will be permanent until you reach your majority, even if the war ends before then."

"Huh?" Dante asked. "Of course this is what I want! I wouldn't have agreed to drop the Harry Potter charade in the first place if I didn't want this. Don't you?"

"Yes, but this is a huge decision, so I understand if you need more time to consider it."

"I don't need more time, Severus," Harry said firmly. "You are my father and I am not ashamed of that. Now, if that's all settled, hand me a quill, Professor."

"Of course, Dante," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling madly. "Now, you will need to return to the third page and sign here…"

Together, the three moved through the document, signing each section. Severus marveled at the happiness in Dante's eyes and felt a flurry of activity in his chest. His son wanted him! He hadn't realized how much he had feared Dante's rejection until that moment. That infernal old coot had been right about Dante's capacity for love and forgiveness. Dante clearly inherited those traits from Lily.

"And, sign here."

Dante signed his name one last time with a flourish and let out a loud sigh. Severus leaned over the desk and added his signature in his spiky cursive. Dumbledore pulled the document in front of him and added his loopy signature. He snapped his fingers and the papers rolled up and vanished.

"Healer Alexander has full access to the Hall of Records due to her position as one of the head healers at St. Mungo's. She will see to it that they are discreetly filed away in proper order. No one will know the difference until we reveal your identity, Dante. And may I be the first to congratulate you two."

"Thank you, professor," Dante said, beaming. Severus inclined his head and rose.

"Dante, there are a few more items I had planned for today, if you would accompany me back to our quarters."

"OK," Dante said, getting up. "Thanks again, Professor Dumbledore."

"Thank you, Albus," Severus said quietly and quickly left the office. Dante gave Dumbledore a shrug at his father's quick departure, but Dumbledore understood.

"Oh, and Dante," Dumbledore sounded hesitant. "I also wish to inform you that Miss Granger and the Weasleys have gifts for you as well, but due to the circumstances…"

"I understand, Professor," Dante's heart clenched painfully. "I'm happy enough that they are thinking about me."

Oh yes, Dumbledore understood his two young men perfectly.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

"Where are we?"

Dante stood next to Severus, looking at (in his opinion) a mansion. It was one of the largest buildings he had ever seen, aside from Hogwarts. They were just inside a set of decoratively wrought gates that rose at least twice Dante's height. The front of the manor boasted a large expanse of land, although no one seemed to care for it. The grass had grown too tall, the gardens full of weeds, and the vegetation looked dead. Two large fountains, one half collapsed, stood mirror distance from the central path. As for the building itself, ivy had climbed up the walls and Dante could hardly tell what color or material the manor was. Why had Severus brought him here?

"This is Prince manor, my childhood home."

"You grew up _here_?" Dante asked, reexamining the grounds in a new light. He supposed that if you trimmed the grass, looked after the gardens, and fixed up the fountains, the grounds could be quite beautiful. The ivy could easily be cut down with magic. He could only imagine the state of the interior.

"I admit that it has fallen into a slight disorder…" Severus said slowly.

"This is what you call a slight disorder?" Dante quipped, cocking an eyebrow. "I would hate to see your definition of chaos."

"Brat," Severus said, turning his face away so Dante would not see his slight smile.

"Do I need to brace myself for the inside? The walls aren't going to collapse around us, are they?"

"You see, Dante, there is this wonderful thing called magic that can be used in all manner of ways."

"I get it, I get it. Magic will keep us from dying of asphyxiation due to the inhalation of dust particles dispersed from the collapse of the infrastructure." Severus stared at him. "What? Is something wrong with my face? May I remind you that I inherited _your _genes – "

"You are lucky that school is not in session at the moment or I would take 20 points for your cheek." Severus remarked with a straight face. "And did you decide to channel Miss Granger today?"

"Nope, I decided to channel Professor Snape. He's always using large words that I have to look up later in a dictionary. I'm preparing myself for the school year."

"By swallowing a thesaurus?"

"Look, can we just go inside? I'm a little cold actually. It's rather windy here."

Severus bit back the obvious remark about it being the middle of summer and led Dante up the central path. They climbed the stone steps and Severus pushed open the heavy door.

"Wow," was Dante's only remark as he stepped inside. Despite the thick layer of dust covering every surface, and the musty smell of age, Dante could easily imagine this place in all of its former glory. "Why don't you live here?"

Severus stood in silence for a long while as memories swarmed around him. Dante thought Severus had not heard his question, so he continued his perusal of the entryway.

"I do not have many fond memories of this place," Severus admitted, to Dante's surprise. "In truth, I cannot stand to be here for an extended period of time. The only reason I have it in my possession is to keep it from falling into the hands of certain people who would have used the wealth and land for the Dark Lord's purposes. You might call my complete disregard for the state of this place my final act of rebellion against my father. He prided his status, and this place, above almost everything in life, including his own family."

"You are from an older pureblood family, right?" Dante asked.

"Yes, as are you," Severus said with the tiniest of smirks.

"Right, so _we_ are from an older pureblood family, so does that mean there are house elves here?"

"Ah. Yes, it is true that I inherited a small staff of house elves. I decided that their services would be better rendered at Hogwarts."

"Clever," Dante remarked and the two fell into silence, still staring around the entryway.

A grand staircase rose up several steps before parting into two staircases that led up to the second floor. From where he stood, Dante could see a third level, but not how to get up there. He tried to imagine a miniature Severus running around this place, but remembered that Severus would have been punished for doing something so childish as _running_. Glancing up at his father, Dante saw a pained expression on his face. He felt the sudden urge to do something that would rid Severus of whatever pain he was experiencing.

"Severus," he said quietly, and Severus looked at him, trying to stow away his emotions, but failing. "Look, I really appreciate you bringing me here. It means quite a bit to me that you would share your past with me." He stopped, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say with making Severus think that he was being pitied. "But if this is too painful for you, we can leave. I don't mind at all. This place actually gives me the creeps."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have –" Severus began but Dante cut him off.

"Don't be sorry, that's ridiculous! I can't even imagine showing my kids where I grew up with the Dursleys. I won't be sorry if I never see that place again. I know what it feels like to have certain memories you just want to forget. And – and thank you. It couldn't have been easy to bring me here."

"You shouldn't be thanking me."

"Oh, Merlin's balls!" Dante half-shouted, then blushed profusely. "Oh, shut up, whatever you were going to say. Just accept my thanks and let's get out of here. We can come back when we figure out what we're going to do with this place. You know, do something that will put it to good use _and_ make your father roll over in his grave. I'm sure we will think of something."

"Quite so," Severus said. "Well, in that case, are you up for another trip? I promise I won't succumb to my teen-worthy angst for the rest of the afternoon."

"Sure, it's not like I have anything else planned."

"Very well, please grab my hand."

Dante grimaced, but held on to his father's arm. His earlier experience of apparition had left him feeling like he would vomit. He didn't expect this time to be any different, and he was correct. However, the sight that greeted him expelled any feelings of nausea he had.

"Wow."

"You seem to be saying that often today."

"Seriously, stop ruining the moment. I've never seen the sea before."

They were standing on a weathered beach looking out onto the largest body of water Dante had seen. The sea was completely different from the lake on Hogwarts' grounds. The push and pull of the waves lulled Dante into a sense of peace. He felt as if he could stand here all day and not grow tired of listening to that sound. The sun beat down pleasantly and Dante fought the urge to take off his shoes and socks, and bury his toes in the warm sand.

"Dante, please memorize this."

Severus handed him a slip of paper and Dante had a feeling of déjà vu as he examined the looping handwriting of Albus Dumbledore: _The residence of Severus Snape is located at Shell Cottage_. No sooner had he thought those words, a cottage melted out the air a small distance from the shore. Severus began walking up to the structure and Dante followed him.

"What is this place? Why is it under Fideleus?"

"This is where your mother and I lived after we married. The cottage was a wedding gift from the headmaster, and he has been the secret keeper for the past 18 years. Unlike the manor, this place has been looked after by select house elves, according to the headmaster."

The stepped up onto the porch that overlooked the water and Dante marveled at the view from here. The sea seemed to stretch on into eternity. A swinging chair, designed for two people to sit on, occupied the spot underneath a large window. It swayed lightly in the wind and Dante imagined that Severus and his mother had spent many evenings sitting there, looking at the sea. The idea sent a blast of warmth through his chest.

He heard Severus open the door and followed him inside.

Smells assaulted Dante's nose as the door swung shut behind him. He recognized the earthy musk with a hit of spice as Severus, but there was something else that hung in the air, something more feminine. Jasmine, he realized. It wasn't overpowering; it was subtle. How had that survived for over 15 years? Dante wondered if magic had been involved. He finally looked around the room.

Eclectic furniture adorned the living space. A large fireplace, the focal point of the room, housed a mantelpiece with pictures and a clock. Dante longed to look at those pictures, but followed Severus into the kitchen.

He barely registered the layout of the kitchen. His eyes were drawn to the open box on the maple table. Photographs, wizarding and muggle, filled it.

Severus gestured for Dante to join him at the table. Dante could not keep the eager look of anticipation from his face as Severus slid the box towards him.

"I know that you have very few photographs of your mother and James. I spent this morning searching the cottage for these. I thought that you should have the opportunity to see them."

"I – I don't know what to say," Dante murmured. "Thank you."

He pulled out a photograph sitting on the top. It was a wizarding picture taken by the lake at Hogwarts. Severus and Lily stood there, waving to the photographer. Lily smiled brightly, while Severus held a more reserved, closed mouth smile. They had to have been at least fifteen as Dante spotted the prefect's badge on his mother's robes.

"That was taken in the spring of our fifth year. Your mother and I had just turned sixteen that January."

"You were both born in January?"

"Yes, mine is the 9th and your mother's was the 30th."

There were several photos of Severus and Lily on the grounds of Hogwarts. Dante also found pictures of his grandparents: the stoic and formal wizarding photo of Severus' parents, and the relaxed and familial muggle photo of Lily's parents. There was even a photograph of the entire Evans family. Lily didn't look old enough to attend Hogwarts and Petunia's face held a genuine smile. They looked much more like sisters in this photograph. Petunia's age and bitterness had transformed her.

"Is that Malfoy's mum?"

"Yes, although at the time she was called Narcissa Black."

Dante's hand trembled slightly as he pored over the photograph. Lily and Severus were older than they had been in the first photograph. They were standing close together, Severus' arm clutching Lily to his side. Occasionally she would look away from the camera and give Severus a kiss on the cheek. However, it was the two other people in the picture that drew Dante's gaze. A young man Dante immediately recognized as James Potter stood about a foot from Lily. His arm swooped around a young woman with long, white blonde hair. She rested her head on James' shoulder and fiddled with the necklace she wore. At one point, she gave a gasp of surprise (Dante assumed, as he couldn't hear anything) as James twirled her around once and kissed her soundly when her feet were planted on the ground again.

"Did she – were here and my fa – James dating?" He looked up and saw a shadow cross his father's face.

"Yes."

"What happened? If you don't mind my asking."

"James proposed to her in the spring of our seventh year, not long before this picture was taken. That's the engagement ring she is fiddling with. However…" Severus paused. "When Narcissa went home for Easter holidays to break the news to her parents, she found out that they had determined something quite different for her."

"Lucius Malfoy?"

"Indeed. I will spare you the details, but she was forced into a betrothal she could not back out of. In the end, she left James to protect him and married Lucius. She never spoke to James again."

"That's horrible," Dante whispered. "At least you and mum had each other. I can't even imagine – " he stopped, unable to say out loud what he thought. "May I keep this?"

Severus thought about it for a few moments, then nodded his head.

"Yes, but it must never leave our quarters. Actually, it would be better if it never left your room. We cannot risk anyone stumbling upon it by accident."

"I understand. Thank you."

"There is something else you should know," Severus said. "Draco is my godson. There is a very good chance that you will see him before the start of the year. I trust that you will act appropriately?"

"I'll try," Dante scowled. "I guess it won't be that hard. He won't know it's me, so maybe he won't act like such a git."

"I would not pass judgment without knowledge. You two have more in common than you know."

"Meaning…"

"I will let him divulge that information to you, should the opportunity arise. All you need to know is that not all hope is lost for him. He is not only Lucius Malfoy's son."

Dante looked back at the smiling Narcissa Black in the photo and nodded. He thought that Severus was asking him, in his own way, not to make the same mistake with Draco Malfoy as Severus had made with Harry Potter. Perhaps Narcissa Malfoy had paved a different path for her son.

"I'll do my best, Severus."

"That's all I ask."

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

As Dante lay in bed, he thought about what Severus had shown him that day. It was strange, seeing those two places side by side: one – large, cold, and dead – and the other – small and unassuming. It didn't take a genius to see which one Severus preferred, and found himself agreeing with his father.

Despite Dante's fear of what the future held, he felt hope for the first time since that night in the graveyard. He knew his chances of surviving this war were slim. It was highly unlikely that Voldemort would be defeated before he realized Dante's true identity, and that would fuel Voldemort's hatred for him a hundred fold. Pushing all of his fears aside, Dante pictured himself sitting on that porch swing with Severus. No war, no crazed dark lords after them. No terror for what the next day would hold. A chance for him to get to know his father without having to hide whose son he was.

It was the first time Dante had allowed himself to really picture a life with no Voldemort. He didn't just want to survive this war; he wanted to live, to have a family, maybe even children. The thought of tiny children with black hair running around on the beach made him laugh. He could not imagine Severus making sand castles or wading knee-deep into the water.

When Severus peered into the room half an hour later, he saw Dante asleep with a peaceful smile gracing his face. He quietly closed the door and made his way to his own room to turn in for the night.

Three hours later, Dante's screams ripped through the peaceful silence.


End file.
